“It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want—oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!”
Our sentiments echo Mark Twain's this Easter. We filled our house with flowers and candy and kites and colour as backdrop to the snowy white landscape outside our windows.
“She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
"Winter is dead.”