It’s warm and it’s raining. Just like a Spring from my youth in southern Iowa. It’s a nice light rain that I love to walk in. No hat. No jacket. No umbrella. Just me alone in my thoughts and not a care in the world that my hair is getting wet. Everything smells fresh once again. The air is perfumed with the fragrance from the crab apple blossoms. The grass is green and filling in nicely. Little by little more and more of last winter is washed away into nothing more than memories.