Where did our balmy summer weather go? Sugar and I shiver as we step into the early morning chill. The grass glistens with the remnants of the night rain and Sugar hesitates to do her business, whining and eyeing me pitifully. Sorry, I can't help you.
As I wait for her to get bold and just do what she needs to do, I glance at the daffodils lining the pale brick foundation of the building. Most of them are bent beneath the frozen temperature. Several of them are kissing the ground full face in the dirt. How pathetic that their proud beauty has been reduced to groveling deflation. Soon their paper thin blooms will shrivel and rust, then blow away in the first little breeze like so much litter.
I am saddened at their reduced state. Hope for a full glorious spring seems bleak. Then I notice the fat greenery of the squatty tulip plants. They have not yet flowered, hugging their buds tightly to their crisp stems, swaddled in layers of leaves. Perhaps spring is not entirely done in. Perhaps there is still hope for riotous blossoming of color and life.
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