Mostly we speak in measured ways about the strangeness of lost seasons. Favorite tree budding outside our building. It does get harder, though as the perfectly lovely Spring-like days last week turn to snow and cold this week. And it is 82 degrees in New York City!
Ten years ago on a visit to Portland we bought a skinny thing tagged as a plum tree at an environmental fair. Rachel and her spouse were surprised to find it on their return from a trip, planted it in their back yard. Growing more quickly and higher than we expected, produces prodigiously. Grandkids have a great time collecting fruit. Ron makes delicious tart plum jam.
The car in a parking garage gives reality to the yesterday's radio report of snow at higher elevations, school closings, impassable mountain roads.
Today the view from the window explains why our daughter and son-in-law, each from flat cities without views, were drawn to Oregon.
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