I grew up (or as I like to say grew taller) in the snow belt of western Pennsylvania. We experienced the lake effect snow which came off Lake Erie. Then, I’ve been out here on the Vineyard for nearly 50 years. I do not remember two February days as beautiful as last Sunday and Monday. It was difficult to give myself over to totally enjoying them without that climate change thought sneaking into my brain.

My friend Sharlee lives on Chappy. She snapped a photo of her first crocus on Feb. 19. She remembered that she took the same picture last year and found it on her phone dated March 20.

I’m busy seeding flats in the greenhouse. It’s my favorite task in the entire garden year. As luck would have it, I just finished rereading Ruth Stout’s Gardening Without Work. Bear with me, I have to quote this passage.

“It’s difficult to see how anyone can take just a little speck, put it in the ground, and not be startled when it begins to make a plant.

“After thirty years of growing things, I still feel a stirring of surprise, gratitude and respect when seeds lie patiently in an envelope, doing nothing at all. Until you throw them into dirt, then, never making a mistake, never once growing a carrot if the envelope says lettuce, doing exactly what you expect of them.”

Speaking of surprises in nature — last week I drove a friend to the airport before dawn. As we turned into the airport road, we were amazed and amused to see a large flock of turkeys roosting above us on the electric lines. How the lines held that much weight was a mystery to us. It took us a minute to figure out what they were since it was still so dark.

In past years, skunks and raccoons settle into a winter sleep, but I saw a couple of dead skunks on State Road recently and the pesky mother coon is back on my upstairs deck at night trolling for cat kibble.

The white ornamental kale still looks good in the beginning to brown Christmas “greens” at the down-Island Black Dog Bakery. I’m going to start some of the Nagoya mix of flowering kale this spring to pop into late season ornamental pots.

Ghost Island has some small turnips and rutabagas. As I was picking out a few of each, Rusty told me that the tops could be cut and replanted for some greens right now. I took his advice and simply placed several of the tops into a shallow pan of water. They sprouted in two days in the kitchen east window.

The life force is incredibly strong.

What is not particularly strong is my usual tolerance for all things political. Trump had a love fest with Modi in India, he called for Sonia Sotomayor to recuse herself if any Trump related cases show up at the Supreme Court, and now he’s angry about the CDC telling the truth about the coronavirus since it’s affecting his precious stock market. Worse still, was the South Carolina democratic debate on Tuesday. I realize I hate debates. I would rather watch a sit down with each candidate alone than a yelling free-for-all trying to score points against each other. Call me crazy, if you must, but I would like to see actual Democrats — I’m talking to you, Bernie and Mike.