I found some poems to share

... while wandering around the net, and will post some occasionally, a habit that I'd fallen out of lately. This poem is dedicated to the weirdest January thaw I can remember. Can anybody else remember 60 degrees and the ground not being frozen in mid January? And last night we had tornado watch alerts and a thunderstorm rolled through.

I was outdoors wearing a sweater for hours yesterday cleaning up debris left behind by the arborists who took down a 60 foot tall Colorado Blue Spruce that was dying in my backyard, and later I spent time battling back my exceedingly huge, not very ornamental ornamental switch grass, Panicum 'Cloud Nine'. My nose didn't even get cold.

I'm sore today and the rain is making me grumpy, and listening to Terry Gross on NPR's Fresh Air interview NASA's Dr. James Hansen, who is whistle blowing on the Bush administration's perversion of science in the name of political ideology made me even grumpier. Here's a link:
James Hansen and Mark Bowen on Censored ScienceAudio for this story will be available at approx. 4:00 p.m. ET
Fresh Air from WHYY, January 8, 2008 · James Hansen, a leading NASA climate scientist, says the Bush administration has tried to silence his warnings about global warming. Writer and scientist Mark Bowen wrote the book on the affair: Censoring Science: Inside the Political Attack on Dr. James Hansen and the Truth of Global Warming.

Well, the truth will come out sooner or later. I'm glad he said he is telling the truth for the sake of his grandchildren.

I'm going to settle down with a catalogue.

He Knows No Winter

He knows no winter, he who loves the soil,
For, stormy days, when he is free from toil,
He plans his summer crops, selects his seeds
From bright-paged catalogues for garden needs.

When looking out upon frost-silvered fields,
He visualizes autumn's golden yields;
He sees in snow and sleet and icy rain
Precious moisture for his early grain;
He hears spring-heralds in the storms' turmoil­
He knows no winter, he who loves the soil.

by Sudie Stuart Hager