Musings -- on the editor's mind

We really spring ahead this week. Sandard time is way in the rearview mirror, daffodils have long been in bloom, it’s light earlier and the sun sets obviously later daily and there is warmth, glorious warmth.

Leaf buds that have been stretching, some since January, are increasingly leafing out on bushes and trees. So are the flowers of fruit trees and ground flowers.

When I snuck into La Conner a year ago, early in the first week of March, my company was daily rain, overcast skies and temperatures that never hit 40 degrees. I visited snow on Mt. Erie.

La Conner? I had no idea about La Conner and not the wherewithal to figure out the least part of it. I was actively seeking to save myself and taking my chances on managing a newspaper and fitting into a small town in the corner of northwestern Washington.

A lot of my life has been spent in two-word towns: Yellow Springs, Mt. Pleasant, East Lansing, though as someone said at the Thanksgiving table about his time in Mt. Pleasant: “it isn’t mountainous, it’s not pleasant and I haven’t had a pleasant mount since I have been here.” Those struggling college professors.

I cannot sing, but if I could, I surely would. I like Paul Simon’s songs, and his lyrics, but it is not true that “Here I am, the only living boy in New York.” One thing for sure about La Conner: there are tons of living here, boys, girls, men and women, people of all sexes and ages.

It is certainly nothing like Kansas.

Thank God.