Two Sides of the Same Coin

Spring

As I sit on the front porch, I can see from my chair:

A field of bluebonnets rolling like the gulf as each individual flower waves its head in the breeze.

Cream-colored yucca blooms popping open like popcorn, reaching up towards the warmth of the spring sun.

Multi-colored hummingbirds buzzing like hornets as they strive to keep the feeder free from competition.

My 2-year-old grandson as he laughingly chases a butterfly through the sea of wildflowers where my husband "forgot" to mow.

Spring's newest crop of bunnies teasing the dog by playing within arm's reach, only to spring into the brush the minute she gets too close.

Brightly-hued greenjays screeching their displeasure that once again I've let their feeder go empty.

These are the signs that it is Spring in South Texas.

Winter's brief chill is all but forgotten.

Summer's broiling heat too far off to worry about.

This is when I'm glad I live where I do.

Springtime - my favorite time of the year.

Spring is when I know that I live in God's country - the closest I'll ever get to Heaven on earth!

                     Summer

South Texas in July - there's no place like it.

Everything is either hot, or it bites, stings, or pokes.

Mesquite thorns long enough to go through a flip-flop and puncture the flesh of the foot inside.

Cat's Claw that reaches out to grab you as you walk  through the brush.

You're lucky if it catches your clothes and not your skin.

Stickers - goat heads - grassburrs - no tenderfoot could survive these assaults.

Then, if you step on a small, innocent-looking mound of dirt - the instant swarm of stinging, biting insects leaves no doubt as to the origin of the words "fire ants."

You can't even pick up a rock from the yard unless you check for scorpions first.

You can fry an egg or the soles of your bare feet on the sidewalk or road.

You can fry the back of your thighs on the vinyl seat covers of a car.

Never buy a car with black seats, unless you are a glutton for punishment.

You've heard of a wind chill factor?  Well, the heat index can kill you faster.

Air so thick you could cut it with a knife - or see it - or chew it.

112 degrees in the shade, with a heat index even higher can kill a dog, or a child, or an old man in less time than you'd think.

Yes, this is definitely Satan's domain - the closest I'll ever get to Hell on earth!