Lots of mud is a sure sign of spring (03/19/07)

The royal purple petals of my crocus are tightly furled against the March wind. They had been coaxed into blooming early by the two or three wonderful warm and sunny days we had last week.

March is such a fickle month. One day it will snow and the next will be warm enough to go barefoot. I have one of the flowerbeds cleaned out already, much to the chagrin of the lilies. I have found out that no matter how pretty red twig dogwoods look against the white house, they have a nasty tendency to spread. Nobody told me this when I bought them. Pretty soon I will be living in a dogwood thicket.

This thicket will be well-fertilized with totally organic fertilizer supplied by our resident rabbits. As I walked through the yard I was beginning to think that the whole lawn was nothing but a bunny bathroom. From the looks of things those rabbits get entirely too much roughage!

Then today I found out that the weeping cherry tree hated the seed bell I hung on it for the birds. Somehow it managed to toss the thing onto the sidewalk. Either that, or the wind did it out of jealousy.

Even without the enticement of free seeds the cardinals still sit in the bare branches and tease the cat. She can sit on the windowsill for hours plotting a way to find out if the brilliant red birds are as tasty as they are pretty. When I opened the window the other day, you would have thought I had just given her catnip. All those fresh spring smells were almost more than she could stand.

I confess to liking the way the air smells this time of year also. I like being able to air out the house. Seeing the tiny blossoms of early spring flowers also serves to air out my soul. This time of year I try to eliminate the cobwebs in my mind as well as in the house. So far, I am not succeeding. If winter is a time for hibernating, then spring is a time for awakening and renewal.

It is also a time for mud. Lots and lots of mud. The stuff is everywhere. It is in front of almost every house on the paper route. It attaches itself to my shoes when I pick up trash out of the yard. I can't even walk the few feet to work without mud splattering the back of my slacks. Maybe I should package it as Miracle Mud and sell it on eBay.

There is even mud in Texas. As part of our quasi-niece's birthday celebration the children were allowed to play in a mud puddle at the end of the walk. There wasn't an inch of clean skin anywhere on them by the time they got done. I imagine it was a lot more fun than pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey or whatever games they play at birthday parties these days.

Wind and crocus, mud and spring cleaning, those are parts of what mark the change of the seasons. I think we get bored with the same old routine and need to shake things up once in awhile. That's why I prefer to live where there are seasons. As much as I dislike winter it makes me appreciate the other seasons even more.

I even like the ubiquitous mud because it is a sign that the long, dreary winter is almost over and more importantly the days of enormous heat bills are gone for another season.[[In-content Ad]]