Saturday morning, and March has been roaming the hills like a cold hearted lion, ensuring that the month departs in the traditional way with the traditional roar. Spring has either been frightened away, or has arrogantly turned aside until March has stopped his shenanigans...

On his early morning walk Caspar was ecstatic to discover fresh snow was there for the snuffling, and he had a continual little white moustache until we got back to the house.


The tender little cameos from yesterday all have a frosting of icy snow embellishing them. And high in the trees are the Crows, who may have a hand (a claw) in all of this. If this late snow fall is a western rendition of the Crow Snow on the prairies that is a mandatory precedent to Spring, then their presence in the orchards and tall trees the last few days has been a dark omen.

The snow on the roof of the Leaning Birdhouse had disappeared by noon. This afternoon brought another flurry, - but I think that The Lion Does Not Roar Tonight, so we will open our arms for sweet April's arrival.If Caspar has to do without his little gulps of fresh snow early in the morning, so be it.......