It has been a cold, dreary, wet week here in Texas, with temps in the 30's and 40's. Now that wouldn't be so intolerable if it hadn't been prefaced with four days of 80 degree weather. So I had to remind myself that it is still winter, and I was just plain spoiled with unseasonably mild Texas weather.
Despite the unpleasant weather which can make a day seem to drag its butt around waiting for the sun to unveil itself, March shoots like a missile at warp speed; have you noticed? It seems that 2009 has been like that since day one. Maybe they're right when they say that time goes faster as you get older.
Remember those days during the school year when you thought summer would never arrive; and then it did at warp speed? And the next school year would rear its ugly head before you were ready.
But then when you graduated from high school, you realized you would either get more education or get a job. Yes, a job. No more loafing around the house, reading a good library book, enjoying the summer breezes. Or hanging with your friends til all hours, not having to worry about the alarm clock waking you up the next morning to kick your butt into gear for work, especially on a day when there is a cold rain coming down in torrents. (Not exactly the best wake-me-up for anybody.)
So, yes, watching the cold rain come down is not so bad when you put it all in perspective. It won't last forever. And we happen to be in a drought here in Texas; so the rain is desperately needed.
And the birds seem to be having a superb time with the accumulated puddles of water that they view as custom-designed bird baths. So they congregate in the trees that surround the rain-made puddles, having their bird council meetings, with head bird, Big Crow, giving out bird bath schedules and the best times for the early bird to get the worm.
And then they dismiss themselves into the other trees to discuss this new schedule and find it to be rather limiting. So they take a bath when they see fit to and start a party revolt against Crow Bird, their ruffled feathers flying in defiance.
Then Big Crow swoops out in a huff, attempting to intimidate with his large wing span, leaving all of the neighborhood birds running for cover, with small remnants of worms in their mouths, grabbed hastily for dinner in case Big Crow comes around again and leaves them without a worm to their nest eggs.
Until the next bird council meeting next month, when the sun will hopefully be shining.
(P.S. Don't forget to stop and watch the birds (perhaps in lieu of stopping to smell the roses.)
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