In the spring the clouds take on a different dimension. They carry thunder and the wind is warmer and the brittle and dessicated tall grasses from last summer rattle and farmers push on in their fields discing the soil for this year's crop and dust follows the tractor like a lonely smoke plume slowly dissolving in the palpable spring air and raptors perched on fence posts seem to have more energy and fly like well fed predators and farmers and ranch hands stop for a moment while having coffee with dirt stained hands and notice the green perennial alfalfa popping up and maybe there's a grin and an optimistic thought and then that fades to the inevitable thought of now.