The clock and the calendar move forward incrementally, naturally (as it should be) from a darker winter we can’t leave behind to something resembling spring. In-between our seasons we take whatever we can, where we are. We have little choice. A less-than-enthusiastic forecast glares at me from a mobile device, with greater chance of soakers more than once or twice in the week ahead as atmospheric rivers come down to earth (a convenient excuse for all it’s worth). April showers still to come, as it happens, as it is always done, we keep moving forward step-by-step mainly in spite of the weather.
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