ice, and cold. Now. There should instead be the blooming of crocus,
the singing of birds, and the eating of rhubarb. Also I just realized
that my spring break is in a couple weeks. Where do we young people go
these days? Daytona? Cozumel? I suppose I need to start tanning.
4 comments:
Sing along:
Clusters of crocus,
Purple and gold
Blankets of pansies,
Out from the cold.
Lilies and iris,
Safe from the chill.
Safe in my garden,
Snowdrops so still.
Would it be cruel of me to mention that here in Paris, the crocuses* have been peeping out of the snow-free ground for a few weeks? If it makes you feel better, they haven't actually started blooming yet. But on the way to work this morning, I did notice that a tree in the garden of my apartment building had burst forth with pink blossoms.
*I wasn't certain of the plural of "crocus" (crocuses? croci? crocus?), so I checked Merriam-Webster online. It gives "crocuses" as the plural, and then says "plural also crocus, croci". The latter can apparently be pronounced croh-kee, croh-kigh, or croh-sigh ("croh-sigh" is an ugly word--why would anyone choose that pronunciation to describe pretty flowers?!). Isn't it nice to have a definitive and clear-cut answer to such a simple question?
...And to continue the French theme, just now when I took the dog outside and discovered that the new snow had a crisp, shiny layer of ice over its surface, I had the thought, "It's snow brulee!"
And like you, Scott, I'm really quite tired of it.
Now, just look at how pretty the picture is that you posted.
Right after the crocuses, we have the relentless climb of dewpoint. As it crosses above 50, the Time of Terribleness starts, and I'm reduced to crying, and become a hostage to air conditioning, wondering if hurting others could in help me in any way.
This post is, obviously, completely anonymous.
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