The wind is blasting against the apartment; things are popping and creaking. If I didn't know better I'd think it was the dead of winter.
But it is most definitely spring. Yesterday's temperature must have been close to 60 degrees, and this afternoon we received the lightest of mountain rain.
My landlady returned on Sunday afternoon, so I no longer have the place to myself. She was so excited to see me. And her speech has improved dramatically since I saw her last in December.
I am now taking reservations for the summer season, so plan your trip today and stay in finest rustic mountain retreat accommodations Estes Park has to offer.
I'm so looking forward to summer again that I wrote this poem in January so to try to capture the experience: