A yellow rose outside my house that survived the storms yesterday. Beautiful, but strong.
Here in Texas, the bluebonnets are in full bloom and it’s time for my annual tradition.
Throughout most of the year, north Texas is a bland, colorless place. However, at the moment the medians and easements are ablaze with bluebonnets. Bluebonnets are the state flower of Texas and every spare inch of government-owned green-space is seeded heavily with them every year. For a few glorious weeks in early spring, nearly the entire state is blushing a beautiful blue.
So now that it is spring and the bluebonnets are abloom, it is time for my annual tradition. My tradition is to promise myself for weeks that I am going to stop and take some pictures of the beautiful bluebonnets, but then to let bluebonnet season go by without a single picture of them. I have lived in Dallas for 30-ish years and I don’t have a single bluebonnet picture to my name.
So here’s one I appropriated off of the internet. The tradition continues.
It was a good week in Biff-land. Most of it was spent within the bosom of the taupe-colored walls of my office at work. However, elsewhere June was busting out all over, even though it is only early March. Apparently June was misinformed and, eager to get an early jump on things, decided to bust a move. Unfortunately, she is just going to have to gather up her skirts, reload, and prepare to bust out again at a later date, because it is far too early in the year for that sort of behavior.
As I drove home from work today, I passed a hill (just an embankment, really) and it was already lush green and dotted with crimson clover, bluebonnets, firewheels, and other assorted Texas wildflowers. It was a very beautiful sight! I was nearly tempted to pull over to the side of the road, get out of my truck, and recreate the opening scene from “Little House on the Prairie” in which they are all running down the hillside of wildflowers while dodging the scrolling credits. However, I may have mentioned that this is Texas and the sight of something gamboling down a hillside in spring may have resulted in gunfire because something huntable is always in season here. And anyway, gamboling is illegal in Texas. One must go up to the casinos in Oklahoma for such debauchery. (And so now you know about my gamboling addiction.)
The weather chappies (and chappettes) a few days ago promised us a weekend full of rain. I awoke this morning to a dense fog (one that was not all in my head this time) and so things were looking promising. However, that burned off quickly and we were left with a warm, sunny day. It is beginning to look like our weekend of rain is going to get … well … sunned out. (Can rain be rained out?) This is disappointing to us all, for the sprint is on to get as much rain as possible between now and mid-May to fill up the lakes before the giant taps in the sky are turned off and we are forced to endure the next five or six months of extreme dryness.
Be all that as it may, I am going to try to force myself to enjoy this beautiful, gorgeous, extremely clement weather. It will be difficult, but I will do what I can. No promises, though.
Tonight after dinner I went for a walk around the neighborhood. The fact that it was pitch black outside at 7:00 in the evening was the only thing that reminded me that we are still officially in winter.
But this is Texas. When it comes to weather, north Texas is like a rabbit hole and we are all like Alice. Bewildered. Disoriented. Perhaps a little cross.
As I walked through the neighborhood, I was nearly deafened by the sound of a thousand crickets singing their mating songs to one another. Bunnies darted hither and yon as I got too close to them. Birds were singing (even though it was dark). There was just enough light to see that flowers were blooming, grass was greening, and trees and bushes were making an ungodly mess all around them as they engaged in fornicating as only trees and bushes can.
I walked along without a jacket, but just a long sleeved shirt. About halfway through the walk, I wished I’d worn a short sleeved shirt. It was probably about 78 degrees outside (26 C).
Back at home I flicked on the air conditioner because it was a little muggy in the house. It is not unusual this time of year to run the heater in the morning and the air conditioner later in the day. Or to have to wear a coat to work, but to come home with the coat off and ones’s shirt sleeves rolled up. Or to drive to work with the car heater on, but to drive home in the evening with the windows down.
We are truly down the weather rabbit hole.
Curiouser and curiouser.