Yesterday, I woke up to a winter wonderland. In April.
As I walked out my door to head toward work, I faced wet, sloppy snow, clumped on trees, melting off sidewalks, covering the grass. Not the sort of thing you want to see when the daffodils and apple blossoms are out.
Missourians tend to face spring snowstorms with a combination of outrage and pride — “Nobody has shitty weather quite like ours!” Nebraskans and Arkansans say the same thing, but they’re wrong — Missouri bas bragging rights to fickle weather.
I did not worry about the snow. Snows in April are temporary, and the spring flowers shake off the snow and shine just as brightly when it melts. A spring snowstorm is, like so many setbacks, temporary.
Words Like Me 