Spring is out of hibernation in Santa Fe. Several days ago we had 2 inches of rain and yesterday the high was 72 degrees. That means life is rapidly regenerating itself. Green is the dominate color again, having just this week replaced the depressing browns and greys of winter.
The two acres surrounding our home are covered with beautiful bluish-purple flowers. My wife says they’re weeds, and I don’t understand why. Who gets to decide what’s a weed and what’s a flower? Some things that seem simple to me can be so complicated for others. I think we should take another look at our definitions. If it’s pretty, why would anyone call it a weed? That’s a derogatory term. Besides, weeds grow much faster than flowers and that’s a plus for us gardeners. I wonder if our nursery sells weed seeds.
As with some definitions, there are many issues in this life that I don’t agree with (“with” is a preposition). Who made the rule that says I shouldn’t end a sentence with a preposition? Probably some Harvard PhD somewhere. Einstein said, “Ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I will not put.” He had a very unique way of saying things differently. (My English teacher in high school told me that “There is no such thing as very unique. Either it’s unique or it isn’t and unique doesn’t need to be qualified.” I never liked that woman.
Spring is a time to relax and think. This morning I sat in my plastic folding chair beside our pond, sipping Grapette, while I threw floating fish-food pellets at a big largemouth bass. He likes to cruise into the shallow water and hide under the lily pads. The problem was that he totally ignored my offerings of food, and I don’t understand that either. In this very complicated world that’s just something else to worry about I guess. f