White sky

imageNo matter how much we protest, moan, tear our hair, run away for vacation, this winter will keep the boot on our pale flabby twisted necks until it is good and finished with us.  After a couple of brilliant days of strong sunshine, I see arrogant snowflakes blowing around outside my window.  How, like a former lover, they have lost their sparkle.  Remember how in December we smiled in an enchanted dream of Christmas trees and carols.  The unique beautiful snowflakes were bringing us sleighing, wassail bowls, presents.  I got a couple of Christmas gifts, true, but no sleigh ride and nary a wassail bowl.  It’s April and if Jack Frost doesn’t stop with the nose nipping,  I am going to punch his lights out. Now, I want none of the winter enchantments.  I want crocuses, robins bossing me around because their nest is too close to my door.  I want magnolias, Easter, lilacs.  I want this white sky to disappear into a true blue.  I want my eyes to be dazzled by sun on the wide river.  I want to hear geese overhead rather than the pathetic whine of my front tire spinning on a forlorn patch of ice.  I want, I want but Nature wants nothing.  The glimpse of what you see above next to my neighbor’s fence yesterday made me nod my head in satisfaction.  It’s April, you bastard, and in a week or so this green is going to take over your dirty white.  Come on little green ground cover.  Give me courage.  Come out from under there and make me believe.  Drive him away and I’ll water you and admire you and take your picture.  We’ll be together . . . . until that cold old lover of mine seduces me again in December.

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