Spring is here! It is "snowing" pollen...the yellow/green dust has covered EVERYTHING.
Wildlife populates a scenery that was bare and lifeless just one month ago.
The sounds of birds chirping and people sneezing fill the air.
All that's needed is the thwack of a golf ball to begin the annual ritual of a Southern springtime.
I eagerly turn the 7-iron-shaped handle of the basement door to open it. Like a sarcophagus, the basement holds the answers to my inner-most questions...
Like where did I put my damn golf bag?"
Looking around the junk that didn't sell at the garage sale, tucked behind the stacked boxes of Christmas decorations, there the Jones Bag stands...forged irons peeking their heads out...still shining, as if to say:
"I hear the birds chirping and the people sneezing....LET'S GO GOLF!"
Thanks for reading. Keep it in the short-grass,
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Yeah, I've definitely been hearing my clubs and the course calling. After watching the Masters next week, I'll really have the golf fever.
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