Searching for Spring

I've had it.  If spring won't come to me at my upstate New York home, I decided I would come to spring.

I vowed I would do whatever it took. (Well, I would cheer on my spouse, who would do the driving).  I would travel until I found spring, and then I would make spring come back with me.

I could bribe spring with food.  I could beg it.  I could take pictures of her and blackmail her into coming to Binghamton, New York.  I would think of something.

The open road beckoned.

The journey began.  It was 34 degrees out as we left at dawn. The sun rose south of Great Bend, Pennsylvania.   My friend back home said ice pellets fell as she walked that morning.

I found spring in southern Maryland.  They baked a cake because they knew I was coming. (Um, not really, but it was a delicious cake.)

In Frederickburg, Virginia, trees were blooming.

In Raleigh, North Carolina, redbuds were the tree of the hour.

In Summerville, South Carolina I found azaleas.

And in Charleston, South Carolina, roses.

Today in Binghamton, it was 41 degrees with light rain.  In Charleston it was 80 degrees and we were under a tornado watch.

I've found spring.  Spring, I know where you are hiding.

Now, I have my work cut out.