It's April 3, 2016 as I write this. It was snowing when I got up this morning. Give me a break. I looked outside and thought, “Oh no! This is a nightmare, I'm back in Syracuse, New York again and it's 1968 or 1969.”
Okay! It's spring. It is, at least, according to the calendar. I was supposed to be in the southwest by now, where it might be a bit chilly in the evenings, but warmer and sunny during the days. I spent another winter – unplanned – in the east in what may be considered the Mid-Atlantic region, but more properly, Appalachia.
The wind blew hard, probably gusting to 50 or more miles per hour. The rain came down in torrents for a good part of the night. This morning, the wind was still blowing, the Arctic blast came during the night and it was snowing when I woke up. Now, it's later in the day, the snow has stopped, the wind has died down to a light breeze, the sun is out and the sky is blue. . . READ MORE