Gone In A Flash

There is a fine block of time that rests between the fierce winter gales of compelling winds and the blazing, scalding heat of a summer sun. It is called spring and it lasts but a second, or so it seems.

 

It is gentle and kind, lovely to gaze upon and oh so even tempered. It whispers in your ears of beautiful days to come, such as fields peppered in glorious bluebonnets and daffodils with lime green blankets of fragrant grass. Parks with their mighty oak trees lined up like solders across the landscapes, filled with laughing children climbing their boughs. Crabapple trees all dressed up in their Sunday best, bending towards the warm sunny rays of warmth.

It’s a magnificent time to stretch out the frigid snow from your stiff limbs and shake them off. But be forewarned, do not blink, do not nap, do not miss a beat, because if you do, it will be gone in a flash.