Utah, I'm leaving town. You have until May 10 to remember the difference between May and January.

I woke up this morning to this:

In spite of what some people might say, "this" is not normal. According to weather.com, Provo's record low for April 30 is 30 degrees, in 1990. Also according to weather.com, the temperature when I woke up this morning was 29 degrees.

I decided to go running outdoors anyway, because 3 months ago, 29 degrees would have been lovely running weather. Near the end of my run, about two blocks from home, I saw a couple kids bundled up in winter clothes and playing in the snow. One of them, who couldn't have been more than four or five years old, scooped up a handful of snow as I approached, and then ran out into the street along a trajectory that was very clearly going to intersect with my own. 

I was kind of confused. Young children are strange and unpredictable, but they don't usually run out to meet random strangers in the street, unless the random stranger has a dog (and my dog was at home). They also don't usually throw snowballs at random strangers, especially without the encouragement of their peers, but here was this kid running toward me right after having scooped up a snowball, and I couldn't think of anything else that he might plan on doing it. No matter how cute the kid might have been, I really, really, really didn't want to have a snowball thrown at me, so I approached with some trepidation. I kind of slowed and he kind of slowed, and we made eye contact, and then he held out his hands and said, "Do you want this snowball?" 

"Sure," I said. "Thanks!"

As I took it, he added, "You can throw it at something tall when you run by." I thought that sounded like a very appropriate use of a snowball.

I finished my run, snowball in hand, which might have looked kind of funny if anybody had been out to see. When I got home, I didn't throw it at something tall. Instead I took a picture of it (I should have kept my gloves on, brrr!), then set it on the ledge outside my window, and in the fifteen minutes it took to write this post it has already half melted. Fortunately, that is what April snow does.