April in January
I slipped out the door yesterday with only a light wool jacket over my work clothes. Even then, I wondered if I had over dressed; with temperatures kissing 60, it felt like a late April morning: saturated ground, swollen streams, thawed earth smells, and gamboling cattle.
By the time I had opened the next row of hay bales, rain had begun to fall and a vivid rainbow had developed. By the time I made it back to the house through the shower, I was thankful to have the protection of my wool jacket.