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Except; it doesn't, anymore. I used to be fond of reciting that line; "it always snows on the daffodils" - as yet another bit of spring tonic. When we first moved here, and for the next 15 years, this was really true. It was a standard part of the progress of seasons, along with the "January thaw". You could count on it; snow would melt, mostly in March; April would arrive with a few surviving drifts still around, flowers would emerge- and then; cold-snap, and a really good snowstorm.
The human fondness for discussing, and complaining, about the weather has long fascinated me. It must serve a function, somehow, and yet 98% of these conversations are totally obvious (nice day, isn't it!) or demonstrably of zero utility (gosh I hate rainy days!). And yet we repeat them eternally, to the point where someone who does not make weather comments may be perceived as slightly odd, somehow. (That would be me.)
The seasonal progressions have their own litany, all amusingly futile to the outside observer. Dissection is almost certainly equally futile, but I can't help picking at it when my salesgirl, in Minnesota, says "oh, I really hate snow...". Somehow, it seems to me that our energies could be put to better use. :-)
So, I was always fond of the snow on the daffodils. It always gave me the chance to make the superior observation that of course it snowed on the daffodils, it always snowed on the daffodils, it always had snowed on the daffodils and always would snow on the daffodils - so-- why not just relax and enjoy it. Since it's going to be melted and gone by tomorrow anyway?
Then about 15 years ago, it quit snowing on the daffodils. I felt bereft.
So you can imagine my joy today.
Part of the joy is knowing, from all the years of watching, that the daffodils are totally up for it. Sure, they're closed, and bent down, and look like they're being squashed; but in fact it's all part of their normal repertoire, and in two days they'll be all straightened up, wide open, and as cheerful as they ever are.
Part of it, too, is the inevitable feeling- if they can take it- so can we.