We’re at that ugly part of spring. The sun is shining and the 66 degrees that it is outside is an argument to open windows. However the scenery is a dingy mud-lusciousness ( I think I owe e.e. cummings for that word) and flat dull green. We’re in limbo between a deathbed and a green revival. Even the soft dove couple that have come to the yard, blend too well into the mess of leftovers from autumn. The brightest thing in nature right now is the crocus that beat all the other bulbs to the March air. I hate to tell it that the forecast calls for snow again by tomorrow afternoon.