"O, the land of cloudless day,
O, the land of an unclouded day,
O, they me tell of a home where no storm clouds rise,
O, they me tell of an unclouded day."
Joshua K. Alwood, 1800
I break for Spring. Since we moved here in 2002 and experienced our first "spring" in 2003, we have duly noted that it's unlike any spring we've ever experienced anywhere else.
It's more confounding than Fall, which also goes through transition pangs resulting in a decision to wear a wool sweater on a day that ultimately goes to a high of 75. Or, a cotton shirt without a jacket on a day that opens at 70 and lows to 30 by mid-afternoon.
Pity the trees and shrubs that don't know whether to wake up or stay asleep. Most can't control themselves, setting buds with abandon; only to have a load of heavy, wet snow arrive like a new dress for Easter.
So, in honor of that time on the calendar when others are breaking for Spring, even though we're not sure when it started or where it will end, I hereby put When Pigs Fly under the safe cover of hiatus.
It's a good time to stay low to the ground.
It's more confounding than Fall, which also goes through transition pangs resulting in a decision to wear a wool sweater on a day that ultimately goes to a high of 75. Or, a cotton shirt without a jacket on a day that opens at 70 and lows to 30 by mid-afternoon.
Pity the trees and shrubs that don't know whether to wake up or stay asleep. Most can't control themselves, setting buds with abandon; only to have a load of heavy, wet snow arrive like a new dress for Easter.
So, in honor of that time on the calendar when others are breaking for Spring, even though we're not sure when it started or where it will end, I hereby put When Pigs Fly under the safe cover of hiatus.
It's a good time to stay low to the ground.
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