My Daily Stream of Consciousness

... but not daily or necessarily true

A nonsensical tour of my current train of thought

Published at 28 February 2018 9:39 AM EST in 'General'

We can go when you want,
but only start when the time is right.

The light will only be on for such a short moment in time,
like the bulb above the head in an old cartoon
sometimes the moment only last for a second.

Ideas are like butterflies drifting in on the wind, but all to often they flutter away.

I hope the flowers come soon.

My tulips are already breaking through the soil, but the weatherman says that the snow will come again. Hopefully they are hearty and can steel themselves against the cold and survive.

It is a sick trick of nature to tempt us with the lovely sunshine of spring. Over excited we throw down our winter coats and swear never to wear them again until the fall descends upon on us.

But the weatherman says the snow is about to come again.
Damn you weatherman, and winter, and global warming or climate change or whatever other term we need to educate those who refuse to learn.

I want the season to move like lovely waves coming and going in what feels like one simple movement. In comes the cold slowly until it peaks and then it slowly falls into the warmth of spring that grows it the heat of summer that falls into the cool of fall.

But no, instead we are left with weather that has no rhyme or reason. On day it is hot the next it is cold. Here comes the storm, there goes a drought.

When will we learn?

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Christine Morton -

A mother, a daughter, a magic bean grower,
a hoper, a lover, a dandelion blower.
A dreamer, a wisher, a photograph maker,
a writer, a hoper, a lesser road taker.

© 2016 Christine Morton Redhead Snaps