You know, I love living in the country 48 weeks out of the year. It's those two weeks or so in the spring and the other two or so in the fall that get me. You know when I'm talking about. Yeah, right about early April and late October when you go outside and everything is covered in a fine yellowish green powder.
And at the new place, we're absolutely surrounded. The whole county is pretty much just holes cut into a gigantic deciduous forest, and the one we're in is pretty much just big enough for the goat farm behind us and the few houses to our south. We're surrounded by silver, red, and gold maples, dogwoods, and pines.
I love trees, unless they're Bradford Pears, but I seriously dislike their reproductive cycles. Or is it that their reproductive cells don't like me?
Oh well, at least it's down to just these four weeks a year. That's a big improvement from my youth, when I'd be this stuffy, red eyed, and cranky nine months out of the year. (Thank you local honey!)
And is it just me, or did it hit early this year? I seem to remember it usually being late October into November when the fall tree pollen would hit.
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