Up here at latitude 44.88611111, the porch is back in season. Even regular people have been puzzled by the Minneapolis weather lately. We’ve been running more than 20 degrees cooler that normal for this time of year. That’s a little too cool for mornings on the porch.
But the sun is winning. It always does.
So the Mystery Woman and I have settled once again in the rattan furniture on the screened front porch where we watch the daily world just happen.
For weeks, we have witnessed the oak fuzzies as they float through the neighborhood, cruising for sex. One local TV station referred to the annual show as a cottonwood storm. Could be. When they finally come to ground, the floaters pile up like little snow drifts.
The pheromone level is dangerously high, nearing red-line. In his weekly radio show, Garrison Keillor said the stuff in the air makes everybody want to hug a tree. Or a very tall woman.
Nudge, nudge, wink. Wink.