Joie de Vivre

The Weatherman

I moved into my new home last spring, a place that I affectionately refer to as MI6.

The city removed a dead tree that was next to the house shortly after I moved in. We noticed that someone was leaving cryptic notes in the bark of the stump.

Message in the stump

They look like this:

Notes More Notes

The city came and ground the stump into mulch. The notes continued to appear in the mulch.

Stick in the Mulch

Then, my daughter and I observed the mysterious note maker.

He carries a well-worn book, which looks something like a bible, and continually looks up into the sky as he writes. I affectionately refer to him as The Weatherman. I am utterly fascinated. He disappeared into the neighborhood before I could interview him, and I haven’t seen him since.

Happy New Year, Weatherman. I hope to see you in the spring!