Still Waiting

We had an early start to spring but now that we've had more cold weather and wind storms it feels like we're still waiting for spring. The late plum and cherry blossoms are fully popped popcorn and the magnolia and camellia blossoms hang on with French manicured tenacity. My back aches from the cold. My back aches from everything. Complain, complain.

I just read another crime novel: Corn Dolls by Patrick Lennon. It's a good evocation of the Fenns, and I love all that dark pagan stuff like in The Wicker Man. Occasional passages are especially lyrical. It's refreshing to read a plot that includes Russians who aren't gang members. I like writing that's got more depth in the characters than in this book, although the plot did keep ticking along nicely--a much needed diversion and a palate cleanser in between meeting some deadlines.

I heard the song "Dust in the Wind" the other day at the Sally Anne in North Van and now I can't get that song out of my head. Gah! I'm sad that the little café that used to serve roti on Lower Lonsdale has disappeared. I liked it because it was cozy and homespun.

It must be hard on those birds with the fragile nests that hang down from the branches, the ones spun from hair, spider webs and grass. How do they manage in these strong winds?