Not being a climate scientist

Actually not only am I not a climate scientist, I’m not any sort of scientist.  But it doesn’t take a scientist to observe that there are real and significant changes being experienced with the weather.   Now having lived in Texas all my lengthy life with the exception of a couple of sojourns in other parts of the world, we Texans know about weather changeability.  There’s an old saying hereabouts:  If you don’t like the weather, either walk across the street or wait five minutes.

But today is November 27, 2012, and we have had no rain since October 13, plus I cut a miniature gladiola bloom today to bring in the house.  Long gaps between rains is not unusual at all in Texas in certain years.  There’s a wonderfully sad book by Elmer Kelton, The Year It Never Rained, that tells what it is like without rain in Texas.  And I can certainly recall years when I had roses blooming in December because we had not yet had a hard freeze and roses are tough.  But a gladiola is a different story.  Glads are late spring and early summer blooming flowers; they go dormant during the heat of summer and we had plenty of that this year.  But then they decided to come back up when the days started to get shorter and milder; the glads seem to think it is becoming spring.  And they may be right.  

 It’s just that I can’t help thinking that certain harmonies and rhythms are changing when we have chrysanthemums and other fall plants blooming alongside gladiolas and periwinkles and such.  Oh, and I have a tomato plant that re-seeded from the summer and is now setting blooms.  Change is not always a bad thing, and can be pretty exciting at times.  But regarding change, there are always two things I like to know:  what and why.