A couple a years ago a girlfriend on mine bought me prints of Mucha's representations of the seasons. Here's Spring:
Decent stuff, right? Maybe not a perfect ten, but kind of a looker. Nice gams, well-bodied hair, erotic little robe, flowers all around. You'd probably buy Spring a drink at the bar, try to get her number, maybe even take her to see a movie starring Drew Barrymore and/or one of the Wilson brothers.
So today, outside right now, there's a foot of snow covering all the greenery. Every walkway and parking lot has close to a foot of loose mud. The sun is blazing in the sky, only it's still considerably cold out -- hat weather, is the best way to describe it. Yesterday it snowed, tomorrow it might rain. The sun melts away a few inches of snow in the afternoon, and at night when the temperature drops below freezing, everything turns to ice.
Spring is a real crazy broad. She might look all inviting and refreshing and indicative of a period of rebirth, but when she goes home I bet she dresses one of her several cats up in baby clothes and pushes it around her apartment in a stroller while saying "Mommy loves baby, Mommy loves baby!" and shaking Xanex into her mouth.
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