It’s June month and for three weeks we’ve been smacked in the face with easterly wind, rain and drizzle. The CBC weatherman, Ryan, even deserted us in desperation and went off to the mainland. It’s like the captain leaving the ship. The capelin won’t even come in. They don’t like rolling among icy slob. The robins have their hoods up and the aspens have good reason to tremble. My rhubarb didn’t make it this year. It’s all enough to get on your nerves.
On the first day of summer I was out in rain gear trying to plant peas with my mitts on. When I opened that package I swear I could hear a chorus of “Please Don’t Bury Me Down in The Cold, Cold Ground”. I thought maybe I’d put them on a Florida bound plane where they’d have a chance.
The onions which I planted in late May are up four inches and giving me strong looks of disapproval. The worms are still deep in the ground and the trout haven’t come up out of the mud yet. I’ll tell you, it’s tough.
But this morning I looked out through the window and noticed smiles from the hardy little blue Forget-me-nots, the purple Pop-up-and-kiss-mes and the brave blooming lilacs. I found strength and inspiration. Yes sir, one must bundle up, sing ‘Storms Never Last’ and go forward despite the elements.
So, I’m going salmon fishing. Does anyone know if the ice is out of the river?