Winter, or not? March is undecided

In 8th grade I attended a one room school, way back in the middle of nowhere. I remember strolling through the trees in back of the school at lunch time, and being captivated by a meadow I found with thousands of Buttercups punctuating the grass. I laid down in the middle of them, in the warm sun so I could watch clouds passing over me in the sky. Such a simple bliss. To this day I smile when I see the little specks of yellow out my window and remember the first time I fell in love with Buttercups.

March is such an unpredictable weather month. Yesterday I spent hours in the upper pasture, cleaning up more of the branches from the big oak tree on the ground. While I cut branches and made mountains of burn piles, it misted, such a fine mist that I hardly noticed. I watched swirling fog banks writhing over the hills and disappearing when the sun pierced them. There were moments of brillant sun and darkened clouds, even patches of blue sky. The air was cool and all the shades of green surrounded me. I would have stayed outside, but Luna started whining, and became agitated and stressed, so I put things away and followed the dogs down the hill. As we passed the hay shed, a big Robin waited on the fence. It's the first one here for spring nesting. Hello Robin! I barely got the dogs in the house and closed the door before thunder clapped and hail pelted the roof. What a racket! Luna knew what was coming. In like a lamb, out like a lion, in one day!