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If after almost three full days without rain I thought I might get out into the yard this weekend, the storm that hit near the end of the third day jarred me back to reality. At this time last year, I was whacking weeds with great gusto. They could use it again, but not until things get a little drier around here. At this rate, that could take into May. Late May. June, even.
As usual in this kind of weather, the birds are starting to huddle under the eaves of my porch. These are the little birds, the sparrows and phoebes. The jays and mockingbirds are nowhere to be seen. The turkeys, if they’re lucky, didn’t get caught out in this, because we all know what happens to turkeys in the rain. Or what is said to happen to them, anyway. |
