I could swear it was still snowing a little this morning, and slushy in the streets on the way to the train station. And the station platform itself was, of course, neither shoveled nor salted. (For all their incessant reminders to “mind the gap,” the Long Island Railroad doesn’t seem to care if you slip and crack your head open before the gap is even in your sight.) But then something happened during the day. I don’t know what they call it in your parts, but around here, I’m pretty sure we call it the sun.
So the snow — what little there was — all but melted, and the weather warmed up considerably. March has that whole “in like a lion, out like a lamb” business going on, but you don’t usually expect to see it over the course of a single day. I woke up this morning to winter, and came back home this evening in spring.
Which is nice, and I hope it continues. I’m taking off tomorrow, not for any particular reason, but just because I thought it might be nice take a long weekend around my birthday. I have a couple of things planned, but none of them much more stressful than sleeping late and maybe doing some reading. You know, real wild and crazy stuff.