Thursday, April 17, 2014

Freeze warnings--who knew?

I learned something interesting yesterday-at least interesting to me. I learned that freeze warnings are only issued during the growing season when there is the possibility of serious damage to plants. Previously, I thought the weather service issued a freeze warning anytime it was likely the temperatures would dip below freezing.

I came to this new revelation yesterday while watching the evening weather. Most of the viewing area was issued a freeze warning--except the mountains to the west. I wasn't sure why they were excluded, but I just assumed there was a warm front headed for us that had already reached them. However, in reality, it was because the official growing season hadn't started there yet. Therefore, there was no need to worry about the plants. Who knew that this was the real reason that the mountains didn't get the same warning? I certainly didn't until the weatherman mentioned it.

When I learn something new like this, I often wonder why I didn't know it before. I've been watching the weather my whole life, so how did I miss this? I'm not sure, but learning about it now has been fun. Sometimes it's the little things. Actually, it usually is the little things that make my day. :)

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During the poem sharing I've been doing this month, I've tried to include a variety of poem types--simple rhyme, children's, classical, and home grown. Today's poem will be another kind--a modern, free verse by Dylan Thomas.

Here In This spring
by Dylan Thomas

Here in this spring, stars float along the void;
Here in this ornamental winter
Down pelts the naked weather;
This summer buries a spring bird.

Symbols are selected from the years'
Slow rounding of four seasons' coasts,
In autumn teach three seasons' fires
And four birds' notes.

I should tell summer from the trees, the worms
Tell, if at all, the winter's storms
Or the funeral of the sun;
I should learn spring by the cuckooing,
And the slug should teach me destruction.

A worm tells summer better than the clock,
The slug's a living calendar of days;
What shall it tell me if a timeless insect
Says the world wears away?