My part of the world has experienced strange weather the last few weeks. Of course, the climate is wrecked. My generation knows that—you know, the same generation that is going through its fourth recession. We may not know any hymns by heart or delineate the significant differences between all the subsets of Christianity. But we are faithful followers of the proper way of recycling, worshipping at the alters of black, blue, and green bins. Most of us were born around the time scientists found out about the hole in the Ozone (Good news: it’s returning to its pre-1980s self, sometime in the 2060s onward. Bad news: No one knows what the 2060s will look like with the rest of the planet crashing).
The weather is nuts, but I love seeing daffodils.