Crocuses
“You
might think that after thousands of years of coming up too soon and
getting frozen, the crocus family would have had a little sense
knocked into it.”
Robert
Benchley
Yesterday,
I was in my front yard throwing out stale bread for the squirrels,
when I noticed that ringing an oak tree, and no taller than the brown
grass around them, were pale lavender crocuses, sitting prettily,
two-by-two. Their bright yellow insides were brighter than the dim
winter sun. They, and a smattering of the jonquils, have been fooled
again by fifty and sixty degree days interspersed with twenty and
thirty degree nights of what passes for winter in the deep south.
Global warming has us all flummoxed.
I
am not going to take those crocuses as indicators of an early spring
just yet. I know all to well how treacherous Alabama's weather can
be. My sons and daughter-in-law were here for dinner last night, and
the conversation turned to our usual harbinger of spring—tornadoes.
They told me that the Native Americans of this area, of which there
are four major tribes, lived everywhere in Alabama except in this
valley. They called it “Shades Valley;” the valley of ghosts.
They avoided the area because they believed their angry ancestors
resided here and created the terrible storms. If the young folks are
correct, I can see how our tribal people came to that conclusion.
Things get rough around here in spring.
Our
tornado season officially begins in April, but Mother Nature is a
fickle fiend, who can strike at any time she darn well pleases. Just
last week, when the northern states were being blanketed with snow
and ice—it is winter, after all—two tornadoes touched down in
Alabama, squashed houses and flipped cars upside down. When that old
girl gets stirred up, you don't want to be in her way.
One
thing is certain: spring will come and we will have jonquils, and
crocuses and tornadoes. They are all good reminders of who is really
in charge of the world that we silly humans think we control. We have
stirred up the angry ancestors with our pollution and our callous
indifference to the earth, and they are coming to get us. As we say
around here, “hide and watch.”
In
the spirit,
Jane
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