Today, on my noon time walk with a person with Autism, I chatted. Poor guy. He's not verbal. I have no idea if my chatter bothers him or soothes him. It's not that I talk all the time but if I see a pileated woodpecker close by or a pair of mallards, I am gonna say something. "Help me find some pussy willows!" I challenge him. I know we found some near here last year. He doesn't answer. He stops walking and turns his head. I look where he is looking and, lo and behold, pussy willows! Maybe he understood me. I will never know for sure. I thank him and rip off a branch. Ever since I was a child marching around the swamp behind my house, I always search for pussy willows in the spring. Pussy willows are as exciting to me as free beer would be to others. So, now, the weather doesn't matter. Was there a cloud 20 miles long and shaped like a loaf of French bread moving to the west on my drive home tonight? Yes, there was that cloud and it's weird that it's moving west because most of our weather has already entertained people in the Dakotas before it gets to us. I am not accustomed to Wisconsin weather. Was it raining when I left the gym after work? Yes. Was it hailing by the time I commuted into the city in which I live? Yes and that freaks me out because there are plenty of hail dents in my old blue civic but none in my yellow Fit yet. Did the hail turn to snow by the time I reached my street? Yes and it was accumulating. ALL of that doesn't matter. I found a pussy willow. Pussy willows never lie. Spring is here.
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