From "Written in March" by William Wordsworth:
"Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill;
The plowboy is whooping—anon-anon:
There's joy in the mountains;
There's life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing;
The rain is over and gone!"My ass, Bill.
Long rainy day ahead; I'll try and post something tonight. Can you tell what kind of month it's been by the post count? Busy. Rainy. Tired.
Wait - March decided to throw a last hate at us! Here's the hailstorm from yesterday afternoon:
Well okay, then!