Bipolar Fronts and Thunder Grumbles

What’s everyone’s weather today? It was seventy (21c) and sunny on Wednesday. Yesterday it turned rainy, steel gray, and vibrantly, grumblingly moody. 

It was perfect. Sixty-three (17) , that weird electric charge hanging heavy in the air, but without the sweaty weight of mid-summer humidity. Grass shock green against the black, wet soil where garden plans laid themselves out in neat, dotted lines and graphs in my mind. 


Today, I wake to this unholy calamity. 

I don’t hate the snow, but I don’t like it. I certainly grow weary of it circa the end of February. And while I wasn’t devastated or angry or anything at this last little April fool’s sprinkle from a dangerously unmedicated and bipolar mother nature, it dampened me a bit. 

Not looking forward to summer, but to that delicate borderland perfection between spring and summer, and then the cascading, crisping respite of autumn, the greatest of all the seasons, with no question. 

How’s it in your corner today? Post pictures! Invite us over. Let’s trade!

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