Today is bright and warm.

New leaves stretch to greet the sun,

And leopard frogs are yelling for a mates down by the creek, a taste of the summer to come.

But yesterday was cool and gray and drizzly.

The mountains were dusted with fresh powder,

And the wind nicked at my lips, a reminder we still closer to winter than summer.

And that’s what spring is,

Not winter,

Not summer.

Something in between.