by Kimberly A. Cook (Twitter@ WarriorTales)
It’s raining. Again. It’s official, this is the wettest February on record in Oregon. Since before the pioneers. This time of year we should be looking forward to Spring break, posies popping out of the ground and humming vintage Beach Boys songs.
Instead I took a couple pictures of the first pink saxafrasia blooms yesterday and they blurred. Not enough light. It was 2 p.m. in the afternoon! But there are some soggy buds on the trees and the brave daffodils are trying to rise into the air once again. I need to get them life vests.
Of course, it’s pouring in California too. Good news for them, their drought is over. Bad news, Mother Nature is still pouring on the water. Just to be sure I guess. Maybe she’s been chatting with Smokey Bear. (I call him Smokey the Bear but it appears he’s changed his name. Hard to keep up.)
Since I prefer to live in denial these days, I am going to assume the sun will come out again and we will have a fabulous Spring. Plans for planting my garden pots, more development in the Fairy Rock Garden and wearing less than four layers of clothes fill my mind. Naked painted toes! Shorts! No parkas! I get excited so easily.
We can do this. We can plan for sun. Warm breezes. Farmer’s markets. It will happen. Raspberries. Visiting alpacas. Fresh pears. Gliding back and forth in the lawn swing on a warm summer’s eve smelling neighbor’s BBQ and hearing the birdies sing.
In the meantime I guess we can take a hint from Spec Ops Cat and spend some time like he did yesterday. Find a cushy bed and a fuzzy blanket. Proceed to tunnel, twist and turn into a cat burrito. Cats are so smart.
Wake me when it’s Spring!