Thnak God for Global Warming: It's Spring!
My crocuses are up and gone, withered to memory as the tulips take thier place. I have to keep reminding myslef of the date. It's April 1st, and it's spring.
Stranger things can happen, I suppose, but this global shift in climate is noticeable to a gardener. I've planted herbs. My son has spinach. And it's up- growing despite the light frosts of early morning, sending green fingers to the sky.
"It's April 1st," I keep reminding myself. I don't recall ever planting this early before. The peopnies are poking vein-red noses from their soil bed. The flax is feathery and getting taller. Tulips are blooming, for goodness sake!
I let my mind jaw on the implications, the possibility of death-dry August, of smoke-beleagured air, of drought. Yet how can anyone complain when salad greens will come up in spring, as they are meant to be, if one believes in old nursery rhymes, old tales of four seasons...
I don't love winter. Can't say I ever have. I enjoyed the fabled Blizzard of 77 with it's mountians of drift, it's tunnels my brothers and I dug in eight-foot snow, playing eskimo. We stood higher than cars that winter, walking onthe ridges of the mounds shoveled to the side where the saidewalk ought to be. It was like walking in air, or being an adult. "How lucky they are," I thought back then,"those grown ups who see from on high all the time."
And now spring has touched me with her softening glance. Her chapped wind hands graze my cheeks.
The green shoots come up to beautify the impoverished earth. The brown decay seems dingy now, out-of-place, like trash on a polished museum floor. I hold my breath. Soon, all this weight will lift, and like birds our spirits soar. Thank God for Global Warming. Man may have created it, but it is a gift, nonetheless. ak
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