April Snow

After a howling gale on the coast all night when the wind played the tiles in  rattling glissandos and flung the bins, booming, across the yard, the morning seemed set for a more equable day. Not so, by mid-afternoon up in the mountains there was a swirling snow-storm of enormous wet flakes, the size of roses falling with soft cold splats from above the tree tops. This is the dog-wood outside the office window, waving its red arms in dismay, as it had taken the sunny weather last weekend as an indication it should unfurl some leaves. It is a feeling we share, metaphorically.