Yesterday's weather was just plain weird. Unseasonably hot (upper 70s), so windy that at one point I caught myself staring up at the hillside of leafleses trees above the barn, wondering how it could sound like a gigantic waterfall. Stormclouds blew across the sky at record speeds. A few of them finally slowed down in the middle of the night--long enough to drop a fair amount of rain on the farm, waking me with the comforting sound of raindrops splattering onto our old tin roof.
This morning the sunshine is brighter than bright, all of the new spring green is thirstily slurping up the much needed moisture, and the birds are on full-blown chirp. It's one of those days where you know that if you just slow down for a minute, you'll actually be able to see the grass grow. But with onion sets to plant, a newborn baby in the barn, and a laundry line just crying out to be filled with crisp, clean sheets billowing in the breeze, who has time to slow down?