Spell of spring

I know why we all love spring so much. There is something in the air and it’s not just the pollen, you guys. I mean, yes, the pollen count is high, but so are the spring pheromones in the animal kingdom. I don’t know about your personal life, but it’s been a long drawn-out winter for the Carpenter and I, so if the air is a little frisky, I’m going to inhale some of that (Disclaimer: this column is rated PG. Any scenarios, real or imagined, are entirely coincidental, fictitious and not intended to ruin my marriage).

Spring is a  glorious reinvigoration, a reawakening to a zest for life that feels as though it has been tucked underneath our couch cushions all winter, with the loose change, half-chewed dog bones and potato chip crumbs, held down by the weight of our burgeoning backsides from turning binge watching TV series into our pandemic sport. I’m not complaining. Quality time is open to definition. I’m just noting my romantic relationship during yet another lockdown in more than a year of a pandemic is about as spicy as buttered toast. Unsalted butter. White bread. Burnt.

Again, I’m not complaining (I am so). I’m simply observing, if you will, that it was a long, dull winter, which is why the signs of animals frolicking in springtime is inspiring. Love is in the air. Nothing puts a little spring in my step quite like seeing all the love happening between the little creatures around my back yard. Wait. Stop. I mean the animals, not the neighbours. That’s a different column and I still have to live there, so let’s just focus on the animals.

The birds sing songs of love to one another, courting loudly, before building nests to start a family. It’s adorable. Maybe it’s wrong, but my heart fluttered when my crimson cardinal, a feathered Romeo if ever there was one, returned to our cedar hedges last week. Such a flirt. Last spring, he would appear every morning, shortly after the Carpenter left for work. I’d enjoy my morning coffee on the patio and Mr. Cardinal would sing to me. I am not going to lie, I flirted back, mimicking his song. We had a thing. Now, here he is again. Yep, I’ve still got it. Ah, spring.

The rabbits romp around the neighbourhood in pairs, stopping in their tracks when we spot them, acting like teenagers who just got caught parking. Remember parking? Sigh. Yes, even the skunks are rummaging about looking for love. Unfortunately, they’re looking in our shed. It’s not in there, guys. It’s three houses down. Try there.

I get a kick out of watching the squirrels twitching their tails, chattering to one another, with a rather aggressive come-hither invitation to their squirrel mates. Wow, I really do miss my college years. Hands up if you do, too.  Of course, squirrels get distracted, looking for buried treasure. I relate. Squirrel mating may be the best metaphor for my flirtation style: “Hey Carpenter, wanna … wait, I left the dryer open. We need cat litter. Are we out of milk?”

Nature is a powerful force. It reminds that everything changes, but nothing changes at the same time. There is beautiful symmetry in that. Love is the balance. Mother Nature is always the one in charge. So flirt. Serenade. Twitch your tail. Proclaim your love. Whatever works for you. Let’s all be enchanted under the spell of spring.

WriteOut of Her Mind