It had been a perfectly perfect Sunday afternoon at the park. The kind that reminds you of the Spring that's coming, that you had forgotten even existed, after such a long snowy winter. As the day neared it's end, another cold front was approaching, and the sky collected clouds.
Winter's muted brown and gray tones dominated the view, but my attention was quickly drawn to the tiny splashes of color that dotted the property.
Like this early blooming tree, who's pretty pink blossoms were visible from every angle, through the hundreds of other bare branches.
And this yellow "flowerfall" that cascaded down the side of a small hill, like a waterfall of color.
And these cherry red berries that clung to the still half empty bushes that surrounded the playground.
No matter how hard old man Winter tries to maintain his foothold on my world, Spring has gotten her foot in the door. Nothing can stop this changing of the guard. It's time to pass the baton.