It's 50 degrees, down more than twenty degrees from yesterday. The first
hummingbird of the season is at his feeder at this moment. From every
direction, the sound of lawn mowers drones -- by the way, my new little
electric does an admirable job and makes short work of the grass in my
front yard. Robins and magpies are fighting for ownership of insects
revealed by mowing and weeding, while doves and finches quietly go for
the seed and fruit mix. Volunteer grape hyacinths from the neighbors
beds are in full bloom on my side of the fence. The sun is out. The sky
is blue. And at the same time, compliments of the view from my kitchen
window, I am watching a snow storm hit the east bench of the Wasatch
Range on the side of the Salt Lake Valley opposite from me.

Spring.