I woke this morning to a hard rain turning harder–into graupel or soft hail. The splash of rain changed to the hard tap tap tap of the graupel. Visibility dropped to a block or less in the falling graupel.

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Jumping in the shower before going to work, I stepped out to sunshine, Blue skies pushed the clouds off to the west and the day was changing for the better. Becoming more open. A day with promise.

Driving home for lunch, snow fell. A Fernie spring snow. Large flakes. Falling straight down without a breath of wind. No mountains, no features visible beyond the end of the street. A cocoon of snow. The highway hissed with the passing cars and trucks.

This is spring.

And tonight, at sunset, I fully expect to see broken clouds, the golds and pinks of a sunset reflected off the Lizard Range.

This is spring.

And tomorrow it will be 16c (above).

I need to drag my bike out of the basement and look for a pair of shorts. My touring skis lean in the corner by my front door, studiously ignored. I want to feel the derailleur moving up the rings as I head out on a sunny (or half) sunny afternoon.

This is spring.

By Keith Liggett

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