i'm just mad about saffron

Don't it make my blue car yellow?
(Hey, I'm paraphrasing a song, okay?)
Plant sperm!
All over my car!!!
You know what I'm talking about.

Yes, I realize that for three years running, around this time of year,
or sometimes earlier,
I am compelled
to comment
on this natural occurrence.
Compelled to comment,
I say!

I think the presence of the yellow bits in my sinuses and in my eyes clouds not only my respiration and sight, but also the flow of oxygen to my poor, beleaguered brain.
In much the same way in which the swallows return to Capistrano and loggerhead turtles return to the beaches of their birth, my senses carry the same data to the same locale in my gray matter.
That information triggers the same conclusions drawn by previous data-gathering forays.
Plant sperm is in the air!
Nowhere to hide!
Certainly no sense in washing the car until the onslaught has ceased, n'est-ce pas?