Really, March is sneaky in Arkansas. You get just enough warmth to start seeing a little green haze on the trees. The daffodils all standing out like annoyingly beautiful young morning people jogging around your grunting knee-crackling self as you lean over in your ratty sweat pants to get the paper before the coffee gets cold.
But April . . . April is too far into beautiful green and warm muddy weekends to remember February. April is pretty and fresh enough that you can forgive the occasional hard freeze because it’ll be warm again in a few days anyway. April is that slightly off-kilter, but breathtakingly beautiful girl you dated in college just long enough to know she’d never be sane enough for your mother. April knocks the closet dust off your flip flops.
I love this month. I love that this weekend looks to have highs near 70 and sunshine bright in the sky. My oldest boy has already told me that he’s got a hunger for some place with a fire ring, a picnic table, and a play area. I can think of a dozen or so places, either state parks or Corps of Engineers campgrounds that fit his description.
Time to see if my youngest still fits in the Kelty kid-pack.