It’s supposed to be everyone’s favorite time of year; a time of renewal and promise; the return of the birds and the blossoms to temperate climes, when one can finally shrug off the last of winter’s chill.  So, where the fuck is it?  Up here in the Northeast we’ve been living a less stylized version of Blade Runner’s relentless rain with the occasional tease of a warmer, brighter day, only to be yanked back to a frigid damp and dank reminder that we’re not in Kansas anymore.  To be honest, we’ve got little to complain about compared to Kansas or Oklahoma or any state with an overflowing river or tornado alley.  Mother Nature is righteously pissed off, and who can blame her?  We have been spoiled, abusive children for millennia and she’s mad as hell and obviously isn’t going to take it anymore. We could, as is the norm in idle weather chit chat, complain about it and continue along our la-di-dah path to extinction, or we could decide to be more-caring offspring with a better grasp on our irrational race toward becoming yet another item on the endangered species list.  The miraculous ecosystem of our home planet is more than willing to cooperate if we’d only be less purposefully destructive.  Check out Sebastião Salgado’s Instituto Terra or find a screening of The Biggest Little Farm.  These are but two jaw-dropping examples of how nature, nurtured by a simple understanding of the cycle of life and encouraged to embrace the flora and fauna that cooperatively ride that cycle, will flourish in miraculous ways.

You can start to help by composting…how’d I do, T-L?