Spring snapped at us like the end of a flicked towel.
The clocks moved ahead.
The sun moved across a blue bird sky.
And it never got above minus three (-3!)
In spite of the chill, the little bit of wind, the sun brought the masses to the decks and sheltered areas of town. The Rusty Edge was a hopping. But no one took off their jacket or tuque. Bundled we sipped our beers and ciders.
Still, there was a touch of spring in the air. Sun, beer and great friends on the deck.
Just a touch.
And then it snowed 24cms and we forgot about spring and skied powder…
