Despite winter’s lingering chill, the yard is ready for summer.
I’m looking forward to the warm months ahead, to days filled with honeysuckle blooms, nesting doves, and cardinal fledglings…
spring
Flower Frenzy (arachnophobia alert!)
As winter dragged on and on this year, I developed an irresistible craving for flowers. I fantasized about petunias and daisies, about hanging baskets and terra cotta planters, about a yard filled with butterflies and hummingbirds.
Now that spring is here, I stop at the garden store every time I leave the house. I stroll through aisle after aisle of perennials and annuals, drooling over vivid shades of purple, red, and pink. And every time I stop at the garden store, I bring home a new flower. (Sometimes a new spider, too.)
My carpets are tracked with dirt, half of my fingernails are broken, and I’ve run out of pots and baskets. I might regret my spring flower frenzy when the yard turns hot and humid this summer, when the mosquitoes and black widows arrive and the flowers wilt every afternoon. Or when whatever is eating the pansies starts eating everything else.
But for now, I’m happy.
Conflicted
This week our television flashed image after image of chaos, pain, and loss. I don’t have a personal connection to any of the Boston Marathon bomb victims, nor any of the Texas fertilizer plant explosion victims, and yet my shock and grief feel personal. More and more personal as time passes, as scenes of blood and smoke and flames give way to achingly poignant details about the dead and wounded.
Desperate to escape my growing sense of helplessness, I turn off the television and retreat into the yard, where I find a foraging cardinal, a pollen-dusted bee, and a pair of brave grackles. A hungry tufted titmouse, a half-grown rabbit, and a sleepy squirrel. They remind me that my journey is simultaneously important and insignificant, that I am both connected to and separate from the world. And their company feels like a glimpse of solace, a brief visitation of peace during a week defined by turmoil.
Spring Gains Momentum
The yard overslept this year and still seems a bit sluggish. Even so, every day brings new manifestations of spring.
Wednesday was so warm that the flowers wilted mid-day. As sunset neared, the irises and roses wanted watering, so I turned on the hose and started working my way through the beds. Before long, I had company.
I carried the hose to an area of the yard where water ponds easily and made them a nice puddle. They stayed until the water completely dried up, though the female duck enjoyed her visit more than the male.
He spent most of the time keeping watch, muttering quiet complaints as she explored the puddle.
Every year I find myself hoping the ducks will nest in one of our iris beds, but they never do. They prefer our neighbor’s azalea bed, and a quick glance at the sky shows why.
I doubt the osprey would bother a nesting duck, but I can’t blame the ducks for seeking denser cover. Perhaps I should go azalea shopping, this weekend…
Spring Birds and a Basking Snake (Ophidiophobia Alert!)
Our weather took a definite turn toward spring today. A combination of warmer temperatures and cloudless skies created the perfect conditions for a stroll with friends at First Landing State Park.
The osprey have returned to the park in force. They wheel and soar over the marshes and beaches, voicing high-pitched challenges as they claim their summer territories. Their massive nests dominate the scenery, but there are plenty of other birds to see, as well.
These ducks were not alone in the water, but I spent too long trying to line up the “perfect shot” of a loon, so missed it altogether.
Further along the trail, we saw a pair of brown-headed nuthatches hopping in and out of a nest cavity. One of them stayed in the nest most of the time we were watching, but the other seemed less convinced.
They spent a great deal of time calling back and forth, one in the nest and the other on a nearby branch, almost as if they were discussing their options.
It seemed to me as if the nest was going to win.
After my friends left the park, I wandered a bit further in search of a woodpecker that I had heard calling in the distance. I never found the woodpecker, but I did find a lovely snake basking in the sun.
I wonder if the snake feels like I do tonight, peaceful and content, happy that spring has arrived at last.
Rae Spencer 