And my annual poem for Thanksgiving:
I look up and give thanks for the rain, hail, and snows;
to fulfill our needs as only our creator knows.
We complain about the heat, the cold, and the rain;
but we’re given a variety to keep us sane.
The dark clouds may come, but a rainbow will appear,
to comfort and tell us our creator is near.
Seasons symbolize a beginning, growth, and death.
But the wind keeps on blowing and never runs out of breath.
We have acquired the knowledge of the sky,
and will keep on learning, that’s no lie.
As a shower that moves through and off to the east,
this I would like to say at least:
“Have a great Thanksgiving and a wonderful feast.”
Patrick Timm is a local weather specialist. His column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Reach him at http://patricktimm.com.