A smattering of rain, occasional gusts of wind, and scudding gray clouds alternately obscuring and revealing the afternoon sun was the best the last day of winter could do. I heard no thunder, but there could be some tomorrow. A laggard flock of geese flying north honked above at dusk. They'll find all the best nesting spots gone, I'm sure. I could have warned them of the consequences of letting things slide. After all, I'm the master of that. Who's your daddy, geese?