I’m really not a poetry guy at all. But I remember [in Just-] by E. E. Cummings from back when I was [in Just-] my young person days. Those lines make me happy.
The snow is receding here in southern Michigan. But I can see green. The cover crop is working even now to loosen up that block of ice beneath it (mostly the rye). But in just a few weeks…
It never ceases to amaze me what some plants can endure. The spinach that I planted last fall is doing better than it ever was [in Just-] a thin shell of plastic, after enduring temperatures of -20°, and the coldest February this region has ever experienced. My iron pipes should be so durable.
the goat- footed balloonMan.