Is spring in the bag?
The grocery bags, one brown and one white, remained stubbornly snagged high up in the tree in Cascade Park since Halloween. I know this because they are my bags -- at least until a lusty wind from Mother Nature confiscated them.
Through rain, sleet, snow, and wind they clung to the same branch, shreds of their former selves, faded in color but hanging tight.
I passed them every day on the way to work and I wondered: What will happen when the tree begins to bloom? Will the budding leaves push the bags on their way? Who will win, man or nature?
And then this morning they were gone.
Now I wonder: Can spring be far behind?