Punxsutawney Phil failed to see his shadow today, meaning only two more weeks of winter,
theoretically at any rate.
For those of us living in places where "winter" is a euphemism for "don't forget your sweater," this might not seem like an earth shattering pronouncement. But for those intrepid souls who remain miserable, slammed with storms and temperatures that are much better to reminisce about than live through, this news is welcome, indeed.
How I love telling my tale of leaving Pennsylvania for California in the midst of the fifth major storm in three weeks. Or was it the eigth storm in four days? No matter. Ah! The good old day!
The important part of the story is that it was many years ago and I tell it while looking out at the blooming azaleas, paper-whites, roses and daisies in my garden. The poppies are up but not blooming yet.
Anyone who is even remotely acquainted with gardening would recognize that not all of these plants are contemporaries. Some should be blooming while others are getting their beauty sleep.
Anyone who is even remotely acquainted with gardening would recognize that not all of these plants are contemporaries. Some should be blooming while others are getting their beauty sleep.
All of nature seems a bit confused these days.
Let's hope Phil, at least, sees clearly.
Let's hope Phil, at least, sees clearly.
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