She awoke to a day like any other. The sky was the color of a robin’s egg and almost as flawless. A few clouds dared to block the sun, but they were white and fluffy, like giant cotton balls. The flowers were blooming, swaying in the gentle puffs of wind that occasionally made their way by. Just a normal spring day. Except that it was February. In Vermont. And it was one o’clock in the morning.
She thought she was dreaming, so she pulled her shades and went back to sleep. Upon waking several hours later, she discovered her dream persisted. Birds tweeted, the sun was shining, and spring had sprung.
She hurriedly dressed and ran outside. She wasn’t going to miss this picture perfect day. Besides, odd weather patterns had occurred before. Rare, but who hadn’t heard the old-timers speak of years gone by when it snowed twenty inches in August?
She spent the day in the park, taking pictures and catching up on her reading. Eventually, she looked at her watch and noticed it was eight o’clock.