Shall we take look now at the year that was? But how about without all that depressing end of the world politics stuff?
I say yes, let's!
So it's time for...
The Amateur Naturalist's Year in Review: 2017
January started with some cloudy skies and the temperature dropped sharply. Around that time all the trees filled up with migrating robins, which was pretty neat- all those trees drooping with the weight of chunky little birds. I saw some clouds I really liked at the start of February and then there was a period with a curious lack of squirrels to be found anywhere.
March was oddly mild but did have the gumption to snow every once in awhile, even though it seemed to be a pointless effort since it was always a matter of hours before it melted. April brought with it some curiously encouraging flowers, especially once all the trees started taking strict turns blooming; forsythia, magnolia, crabapple, and so on.
June threatened heat and then relented, causing, according to a specious theory of my own, the cats to get pointedly friendly in July. Then the black raspberry bushes started fruiting amidst the clouds of mosquitoes, daring one in a push pull of reward and punishment. August and September were mild, thick, and full of flickering lightning in the night. In October I briefly went to another country. They had less grass there, but it was greener. That's Europe for you in a nutshell.
As always the leaves went crazy here in mid October then raced headlong into death for Halloween. November came in like a kitten and went out like a kitten, making me think we'd breeze right through winter hanging out with the great flocks of geese who seemed to spend a lot of time around then just milling about.
Then most of the geese left, it snowed, and it got as cold as it could possibly manage, trying its hardest to hurt with it.
And that's where we are today, on the last day of the new year!
And what then will next year hold for us?
Who knows. We'll probably all be dead because of the stupid President.
Your phonology gives a nice review of the year, until the last sentence. Please, no.ReplyDelete
Well, I hope not.Delete
We remain. I'm continuing to cycle through being furious and despondent at the deliberate obfuscation and wanton ignorance that menace our planet like monsters.ReplyDelete
It's frickin' cold at this end of the river too. Tonight many tropicals will be reduced to mush. Like the stunted mangroves that are establishing a beachhead along the local coast, life is always testing the boundaries. Gambling on change.
I'm sorry about the mush. We have a period in the fall with mush, but that shouldn't happen so far down the river or what's the point of living closely with alligators?Delete