Because my storm window decided to make a break for freedom. A little digging yielded this Robert Frost poem, which nicely captures my growing weariness with the weather and the unpredictability of New England spring.
Two Tramps in Mud Time
The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March.