Snow in April . . .

I hate snow.
For as long as I can remember, Chicago in Spring has been the most unpredictable season of any, showing a daring ankle with 65-degree weather in March and then shocking us with 30-degree weather in April. I remember in my childhood a snowstorm at the end of May. When I move to SoCal in 2011, I'm never crossing the Mississippi again.
Still, there is a kind of strange beauty in the juxtaposition of ice crystals over tender green buds just peeking out of branches; a rime of frost on new tulips and crocuses. Spring, for its very changeability and unpredictability, has been the favorite topic of poets and painters for centuries. In spite of the shock of snow boots in April, I still say that Spring is my favorite season.
All the same, I can't wait for the move;)

If there were fragrance
these heavy snowflakes settling . . .
Lilies on the rocks

-Basho