The big ice/snow/slush storm we were supposed to get last night?
It was all rain and wind. Lots of wind. Very loud wind.
But nothing was damaged when I went out this morning. (I was worried; my apartment building seems a little fragile.) A curbside recycling bin from parts unknown had blown into the parking lot, but that was the extent of the wind’s mischief, as far as I could tell.
Better still, though, was the sky.
Beautiful, soft, pale, clear blue, with just a few fluffy clouds here and there that emphasized the sky’s beauty rather than detracted from it. The clouds were all shot through with gold from the new-risen sun, and the pale waning moon faded slowly into its daytime sleep far away to the west.
In spite of the cold, in spite of the fact that winter still has weeks to go, that was a springtime sky we had this morning. The morning after a storm, the entire world seems washed clean and renewed, shining in glory.
It’s the sort of morning when any amazing thing might happen.