Welcome to Sprinter.
Not bad, huh?
I just made it up.
It still feels like winter, at least around here.
Our friends, “They”, say all this cold air is sliding down from Canada, which is what’s keeping the temperature down.
But could you save your generosity for August, when we can really appreciate it.
Almost as if they’re just hanging there, waiting for a wave of warmth from the south to arrive.
I don’t blame them. I mean if I were a leaf I wouldn’t come out in this either.
And the grass seed? Forget it…they just look up at you and say…“Yeah, right okay…see you in May”.
That’s just how it’s been.
But it’s still pretty to look at, this sprinter season.
And it still promises of a warm summer season to come….
Of course the daffodils, and now tulips, haven’t been deterred by the cold.
They know they only have a small window to take the spotlight on center stage and aren't about to let that pass them by.
It’s bad enough they have to deal with some impertinent crocuses that don’t know when to say goodbye.
It’s even worse that they have to deal with some of the more reprobate Iris breeds that seem to show up earlier and earlier every year.
I've also been able to pick up some chit chat from the more forthcoming maple buds, up on the big tree in front, and I’m happy to say it sounds like a lot of the old timers are coming back, along with a lot of new growth on the outer limbs.
Of course the hurricane or non-hurricane, super storm—whatever you call it for insurance purposes—took its toll, last fall, so the canopy crew might be a little sparser than in years past.
But from what I could pick up from the conversation—and it’s not easy eavesdropping on deciduous gossip, buds or not— it sounds like this younger group of foliage, is eager to get started and actually bolstering the resolve of the older folks up top to get blooming.
So I’m looking forward to a good year from the Maple.
Even the little Japanese Maple that took such a bit hit from—ahem—one of the big maple’s weaker appendages, is on its way back.
Whew…we were optimistic, but weren’t really sure what to expect from that little fellow.
Or at least I wasn’t sure…Z had no doubts…at least that’s what I’ve discerned after hearing about how she was right and I was wrong…32 times…33…34…35.
Sure, the little guy’s not the same, and probably never will be again, but what he’s lost in stature, he’s gained in character.
And what can I say about our old faithful dogwood, as always leading the charge.
“Canada…what do I care about Canada”…she says.
At least I think she’s a she.
Who can tell from trees?
Not that I would judge her…or him…or whatever.
As long as it’s out there flowering for us in sprinter, leafing in summer and blazing with color in fall, it can be whatever it feels comfortable being.
Okay…my eyes are getting itchy from all the pollen in the air.
Another sure sign of sprinter…the season formerly known as spring.
And if you think I have an ulterior motive in writing about sprinter, you would be right.
Because the way things go, if I write to complain about something, it’s sure to change, and become the opposite of whatever it is.
So I’m expecting by the time you read this, the Canadian air will find out we don’t take their funny quarters here and head back across the border, where it belongs.
Then, the likelihood is it will actually warm back up to normal spring temperatures.
Just to screw up my story.
So let the blooming begin!
No need to thank me…again….