Three Minutes Weathering the Storm

Normanday #70: It’s raining bats and frogs.

Write for three minutes about…

…stormy weather.

Email what you wrote to woof at bright dot net by the end of the day April 7 (put “Norman Tap Dances Through the Tiger Lillies” in the subject line). I’ll post as many of my favorite entries as I want next Monday. Include your first name (or, even better, use a pen name) and age (unless you’re tortoise-old). If you’re a published children’s or young adult writer, include a biography to be posted with your entry.

Here are the entries from last week when I asked you to write for three minutes about…

…the moment you realize it’s finally spring.

Schae D. Lane

I don’t believe there is any point at which to determine when spring will come. I’ve heard the “it must snow three times on the daffodils before spring will come.” I’ve heard the “after the last major snowstorm of March, spring will come.” I’ve heard the “return of the robins forecast the beginning of spring.” This year I’ve heard a new one. Noteworthy groundhogs can be brought up on charges of fraudulent spring predictions punishable by death. Ironic isn’t it that spring symbolizes rebirth? I now believe spring shows up when it feels like it and when it does, the sun seems a little more brighter, trees and flowers pulsate with color and the air smells cleaner, more fragrant. Spring releases us from the tightly, coiled feeling we all get from the cold, dormant winter.

Tren Rewy Steb

Heavy boots come off and my feet feel light and free. I run down the sidewalk, tennis shoes slapping on thin puddles left from melted snow. I could run forever…right into summer.