Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Well, what if there is no tomorrow? There wasn't one today.
When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing here among the people of Punxsutawney and basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts, I couldn't imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter.
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2 comments:
Winter, slumbering in the open air, wears on its smiling face a dream... of spring. Ciao!
You want a prediction about the weather? I'll give you your prediction: It's going to be cold, it's going to be grey, and it's going to last you for the rest of your life.
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