The Reverend Edmore Jordan, root-man, former US Air Force service member and my neighbor for the past 12 years likes to fish. He seems to prefer to do it in the Spring, or that is when he likes to hauls his Easter-Egg green skiff out and commences to fiddle with it. If there is one thing I know about boats it is that you don’t want them to die on you in the middle of a large body of water. So, I suppose his preparations are justified. Anyway, the flowers are coming up, the bees are flitting from bud to bud, the temperature swings erratically, Edmore is fixing his boat— these all presage the arrival of Spring. Maybe I am just now putting the pieces together or maybe age is making me more contemplative (although I think my mother will tell you I was born contemplative) or maybe I just like to see patterns where they don’t really exist, but all the aforementioned activities serve as a comforting reminder that no matter what the state of thing may be, our little blue world continues to rotate around the sun. The troubles of its inhabitants bother it not a whit. Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter will come no matter what we have to say on the matter. And rather than reminding me that I am one year older than the last time I watched this parade of annual goings-on, I take more and more pleasure in knowing that no matter what may happen, Edmore will haul his boat out and it will cough blue-grey clouds of exhaust and he will curse and all will be right with the world.