Finally, a ray of sunshine! Pepper and I took advantage. She bounded around the yard securing the border and I did my usual slow circuit. To my dismay, I found the daffodils already 3 and 4 inches high, seemingly overnight. Pep found me kneeling beside them.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“The daffodils!” I cried, anguished. “Too early! They are going to be ruined. They are going to be frostbitten and hideously ruined, like last year. I could cry!”
“You are practically crying,” she noted.
“This warm weather! It entices them to come up early. Then all the rain. It’s the perfect storm. Or the perfect seduction,” I lamented. “And they just can’t resist.”
I stood up to take some pictures of the silly, unwise daffodils, those foolish creatures who failed to learn the lessons of winters past.
I crushed one under my boot in the process.
“AAAAGGHHH!” I exclaimed.
“It’s a dangerous world for daffodils,” Pep observed. “Maybe you should worry less about the weather and more about…”
“Hush,” I replied.