After living in South Florida for more years than I care to remember, I’ve gotten used to the subtle clues that signify the change in seasons. They’re hard to define, but over time one gets better at identifying them. Some years, however, it seems like Mother Nature is downright schizophrenic. Take this winter, for instance. For a few days at a time, the temperature would dip down into the forties and for the next week or two, it would spike back up to seventy-five. I’d leave my house in the morning wearing a cozy sweater, and by noon I’d be sweating bullets! And, the plants and trees were confused too. I had azalea bushes blooming in January, that were nothing more than a mass of barren, brown twigs by mid-February.
We had no real springtime this year either. By the time St. Patrick’s Day rolled around, my weather thermometer hit eighty and never looked back. I really missed that transition period! But apparently, Summer was in a hurry to get here and would not be delayed. So, while the calendar tells us that we still have another six weeks for it to officially be summer, the weather says otherwise. read more >>