This is the year that Spring won’t happen or Winter won’t leave depending if you see the glass half full or half empty. (Hmm, now that think about it, the glass in near dry.) I heard the birds chirping in the trees around the house this past February and thought nice weather is finally coming. Now I see a Robin on the branch outside my window wearing earmuffs and mittens.
I suppose the delayed Spring is nature’s way of telling me to stay inside and keep writing. So I sit here tapping the keyboard, wondering what warm weather feels like and watching the snow falling. On to another chapter. Maybe I’ll write a story about Spring.