"NEITHER RAIN NOR SNOW NOR GLOM OF NIT ..."* (Going Postal, Terry Pratchett)... nothing fazes a yellow primula.
|On a rainy afternoon. It's been buried under 2 feet of snow, blown about, snowed under again, and again. And kept on flowering. What's a bit of rain after that?|
More snow is coming, they say.
*Terry Pratchett could spell, but some of the letters had been stolen.