You know how I mentioned that Spring had headed South for Easter weekend? Yeah.
We had snow flurries this afternoon. Nothing stuck, but it was definitely snow flurries. Light fluffy stuff twirling through the sky. It looked pretty with the sun peeking through the clouds and glinting off all the tiny little snowflakes floating in the air. But it was still SNOW. Otherwise known as ICE CRYSTALS. I took a couple of pictures because I couldn’t believe it.
Easter is tomorrow. I’m sure we had snow a couple of times when I was little, there may even be a couple of pictures of my sister and I in our fancy Easter clothes standing in the snow in front of the house. But that’s not what comes to mind when I think of Easter. Easter for me means flowers and new dresses with short sleeves and new shoes. Blooms and buds on the trees. Spring. A time of birth and rebirth, and new growth and regrowth. Warmth and sun and blue sky and lots and lots of colors, lots of different shades of green on the ground and in the trees, and don’t forget the colored eggs.
Color. Lots and lots of color. NOT white snow. The only white is on your shiny new shoes and crisp white dress gloves and, if you’re lucky enough to get one, your fancy Easter hat with the big satin ribbon on it. [OK, so I think I only had a hat ONE year, and I remember wearing it drove me nuts, but Easter still makes me think of fancy hats.]
And we have SNOW. I hope the Easter Bunny (or Easter Bilby for those in Australia) has an extra thick winter coat with a hat to keep his ears warm. And little booties for his poor cold little paws as he hides all those eggs.
Now I understand why the Easter Bunny always hid eggs INSIDE the house and not outside in the yard when I was little.