Last week it was 50 degrees and drizzling.
I was starting to regret my decision to put my parka away for the season as I sat on the damp bleachers of the misty Little League field.
The next game I went to I had short sleeves, sandals and was worrying about getting a sunburn.
My favorite part of the late Spring is the green.
Sometimes you don't know how much you miss something until it comes back.
The color of the new leaves and grass are so bright it hurts my eyes.
This weekend my tired, grey little town was full of people and traffic and cookouts and noise.
It happens every year.
It is still a surprise, just when you think it will never come it does.
Makes me realize that the same old can be new again.
And so can I.