Bob Collins
The vanishing signs of spring.
When I was growing up, the New England Flower Show was the unofficial declaration of hope during that part of the winter — the tail end — when one more helping of snow would often be enough to send people over the edge.
Now, the New York Times reports today, flower shows across the country are the latest victims of the bad economy. They have wilted in the face of reality.
Last week, my wife went in search of bulbs to force. All she could find was “paper whites,” the smell of which instinctively makes us look for an electrical fire in the house. She had no luck finding regular old bulbs.
Need more? For baseball fans, pouring poring over the small agate type box scores of spring training games from exotic places like Port St. Lucie and Winter Haven, has always been the “hope” to hang onto. The Star Tribune, and many other places, this year have eliminated out-of-market spring training linescores. Getting them via the Web is not the same.
This weekend it’s supposed to snow again.
Hope is getting harder to find.
