It was warm enough to walk with the dogs down to the pond today. The pond was cracked and from certain angles I could see the ice was several inches thick.
I wanted to stay and marvel longer, but the rain that had been easy to ignore was making its presence known, so we jogged back to the house in a line – Fritz first, Watson second, and me bringing up the rear. When Watson was small he was always in the rear, just trying to figure things out but in absolutely no rush.
The weather is supposed to correct itself to the average this week. The weather was never something I paid much attention to before moving to the farm. I noticed, but I could never have told anyone the average temperature or last frost date. The only thing I knew for certain was that we would always get one last cold snap and snowfall in April, then it would be nice.
We always had snow days in April, which is why I remembered. All the cold months and we had to trudge in to school, but winter would always give its last gasp in April.
I revel in the small things now. The slope of the land. Cracks in ice. The leaves changing color. The beauty of fruit trees. I am so, so glad to live this rural life that I never would have considered at 15.