I guess I’ve watched the movie “Caddy Shack” one too many times. There’s a plant blooming in our back yard, and, in my mind’s eye, I can picture Bill Murray having a nonsensical conversation the plant, playing with the words:
“You’re such a witch, Hazel.”
“Hazel, you are such a witch.”
“Hazel, you monkey woman, what a witch vixen you are.”
And, in his charming and goofy way, Bill Murray would have it right. Showing off her bloom months before anything else on our property, the witch hazel is in fact a vixen, tempting me, teasing me, making me think it’s spring, long before the calendar says it’s time.
Yesterday, Hazel’s act was exposed for the seasonal charade that it is: We got a dusting of snow, and, though the white stuff melted quickly, I think witchy woman’s perky blossoms shivered just a bit.
