I don’t think I turned the heat on once during Feburary or March. This winter there were more days I didn’t wear gloves than needed them; sulrey not a single week where you needed gloves every day and night. A winter jacket sufficed, didn’t even have to zipper up most days. We anticipated inclement weather that never came. Old man winter is dead and Global Warming killed him. Is this the new normal?Usually, Spring takes her time, a gradual but wonderfully inevitable entramce. This year, it was like a hotel banquet room and before everyone from the office christmas party had left, the fraternity bcheloar party started. Spring’s arrival was about as subtle as that naked hooker jumping out of a cake, then landing on her knees as she reaches for the nearest zipper.
By the second day of the new season, daytime temperatures reached the low 80s. Pollen satuares the atmosphere. Hay fever reaches epidemic proportions.The trees are out of sync. Branches have not caught up with each other; some are bare and stark, others support a full bloom. Blossoms have been tricked into being. Leaves have to bud first. I took these pictures on Thursday, the contrast being the most evident then. By Friday I noticed that buds now dotted many of the branches, yet many petals had already fallen. The pace is accelerated but the first flush of Spring I fear will be tarnished. You know, in April, when together leaves and blossoms fill the horizons and winter’s starkness is firmly elimenated by this colorful fecund pageant. With some branches seasonally empty while other branches flourshing robostly the scene instead seems depraved, a May/December romance. Something in the air, some can’t resist giving into the urge to bloom while others are unable to comply. Love the one you’re with. If Spring is rushed what will this mean for Summer?