And so it begins.
The capricious, fitful, gusty start to spring.
Today it rained.
I have been squashing about in mud and slush and puddles, rather than mincing over sheets of ice and drifts of snow.
There are remnants of the past seasons: the brown leaves mingling with shrinking snowbanks, and reminders that the long winter is soon to be gone: a few buds, the first blades of green grass.