Question of the Day!

I can't see much because that infernal spring sun, rising at its oblique angle, is blinding me with a light that is abnormally sharp in its brightness. The spring sun is like a knife in my eye and prickles my cheeks with the tips of its rays so that I can nearly feel the freckles forming. Morning is a cacophony of frenzied bird calls as the returning species rush to find building materials and willing mates in a world that is still too cold to provide comfort or sufficient food. A strange buzzing on my arm incites my hand to brush it away. A bee that has emerged too early, lethargic and underpowered has no means of escape, being incapable of flight until the sun takes over the sky completely, had no option but to sting and die without knowing its proper purpose and I cry out in surprise and pain. Oh, for the quiet of winter!!