"No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn." Hal Borland

Sometimes at night, something wells up inside of me - this spring of words: an impetus brought on, perhaps, by spring peepers peeping in surround sound phonics all around the Ranch, or perhaps from the sound of the trains rumble ching-ching-ching, ching-ching-ching, ching-ching-ching in a distance that is not so distant. Perhaps it is this warm night air in mid-March that has me up late, beer in hand, singing the blues.

For whatever reason, tonight is one of those nights.

And on this night, random thoughts flitter-flutter through my head. Like where would I be without music? Like where would I be without my beautiful daughters? But, mainly: why is it so warm? 

The mercury reached a whopping 83 degrees here in northeast Ohio. Signs of spring are everywhere.

Toads caught in the act...notice the string of (no doubt fertilized) eggs

I haven't been able to harness break anymore puppies since my last post. It's been so warm.

Don't get me wrong: I try to embrace the seasons as they come. But where did spring go?

I'm sorry, but I think spring did, in fact, skip its turn.

Is it too much to ask, Dear Spring, for you to return just for a little while? Just so I can have a few short fun runs with the dogs?

Panting from northeast Ohio, and, as always, with