I said about all that needed to be said about the woolly bear caterpillar in this past last year. And I didn’t google anything further to offer more to the rather inane conversation of one. But in the backyard the other day I happened upon this year’s woolly bear, slowly traversing the lawn and hoping not to be stepped on.
What does their fur say to us now? Who can read the future winter weather in the width of the stripe? What might this winter bring? It’s too soon to entertain such dismal thoughts as winter. Let’s hold onto what warmth the sun may yet elicit during the day.
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