Where There's A Will

"Where there's a will, there's a way."

Another phone call yesterday to Nikon didn't produce any results, positive or otherwise, but this morning I finally figured out a back door to force my camera to give up some photos.  This was the "red sky at dawning" yesterday that presaged the rain that came during the night.

One of the brave and hardy anemone buds that withstood the snow (there was still snow down on the slope toward the woods).

Inga?  She's a work in progress.  I understood yesterday that she has priorities.  The girls are going through their cycles and when in heat they become as single-minded as the bucks.  I did explain (again!) that we were not going to have an easy time of it today, but she wasn't listening.

The forsythia has put out its first yellow blossoms and daffodils have begun spotting the yard with pools of gold.  Anemones are dotting nearly every pot on the deck now, and the plum trees and the almond are nearly in full flower.  (Perhaps I'll take more pictures, now that it doesn't seem so futile.)  Grey and overcast this morning, a sunny day in spring makes one antsy to get outside and plant something.  This is such a beautiful time of year.  And so is fall.  And so is winter.  I'm not so fond of summer.  That is like paying the bill for the other seasons.