The spring has sprung, the grass is riz’,
I wonder where the cuckoo is
Some say the bird is on the wing, but that’s absurd
Because the wing is on the bird.
This ditty from my childhood has been much on my mind this week. The days of glorious weather have tempted me out on longer and longer walks. The river gently flowing by gives me peace of mind, the willow trees are showing a yellow haze, with promise of leaves to come and everywhere I look, I see spring doing it’s best to arrive.
What is it that gives me hope that spring is just around the corner? The birds are singing for joy and the sky has been mainly blue, sunshine on my back makes me remove my jacket and I dug Capri pants out of the drawer to expose my winter white legs to the outdoor world.
In the park is the familiar twang of tennis balls being volleyed across the net and a nearby skunk is saluting the warmer weather in his own charming way, my nose wrinkles as I walk near his territory and almost choke on the fumes.
My little dog has worn her fur long since November and her fleece coat has helped keep the freezing temperatures at bay but now her coat is washed and (hopefully) put away for next year and Daisy is sporting a new haircut. So am I. The winter weather has made it easy to obey covid restrictions and keep away from the beauty salon and, wearing winter hats, has hidden the home done trims that allowed me to see where I was going. Come the ability to go bareheaded and the shaggy look needed to be fixed, so I bit the bullet and both Daisy and I are shorn.
Spring makes it’s appearance, gently at first, then in more and more subtle ways but none caught my attention as did the “sign”. It was hand written, rather crudely, but announced the coming of spring in glowing neon colours that really hit the fact home to me that, in fact, spring had arrived . What did it say, you ask? It contained a message but I needed only the first two words for my brain to register the fact that spring had arrived. Those two words were “garage sale”!
What other message do we need to tell us that it is “that” time of year? The time for us to clean house, clear out our junk, haul it outdoors and display it for the world to see. Not only do others want to see it, but they come in droves to ooh and aah over it and pay us to take it away. Not only does the sap rise at this time of year but so does our hopes of finding a treasure in someone else’s back yard.
A few years ago I bought a plastic, furry penguin from a garage sale. It was ridiculous but I felt my two dollars was well spent and the two foot high penguin lived in my porch for ages. When I moved house it got damaged and lost a foot but, for months I propped it back on its wonky appendage and it gamely guarded my patio against intruders. The slightest nudge caused it to fall over and I finally admitted it had soldiered on long enough and gave it a fond farewell as I pitched it in the dumpster.
We have all given in to the temptation of poking through someone else’s junk and carrying away a trophy. Covid put a stop to treasure hunting last year but, it is a new year, a new spring and a new season of trophy hunting so, put on your mask and get out there to enjoy one of the best joys of spring.
To the people who have stopped me on my walks and told me they missed my column, a huge thank you. Different events have made me doubt myself and my ability to entertain, so it has been a huge ego boost to know that my column is enjoyed. As long as my brain will crank itself into gear and, with Jack’s good nature, I will continue to write.