It’s beginning
to feel like spring here in Southern Ontario. But I’m not taking anything for
granted just yet. Not one blessed thing.
Yesterday my
beloved asked me if I wanted him to remove the “claw” from the bottom of my
cane. It was a new addition this year, and boy was I glad of it. Basically the
device which I bought at the local Walmart is like an ice pick. You attach it
near the bottom of the cane. It’s on a spring-like hinge, so you can release it
from its resting position on the side, claws up, and lock it down, so those
sharp metal teeth “cover” the rubber cane tip, effectively biting into the ice
with each step.
That five
dollar doo-hickey prevented me from slipping all winter.
I nearly said
yes, because while it is clinging to the side of the cane that’s away from my
body, I still have to be careful not to catch it on anything—or anyone. But in
the end I said no. I think I’ll wait a while yet, as I don’t completely believe
that bitch, Mother Nature, is quite done yanking our chains for this
year.
Even so, it’s
good to see the signs that spring is beginning to take hold.
All that’s left
here at our place of the white kaka is a bit of ice and snow in our back yard,
remnants of the piles that my husband made each time he cleared a path for the
dog. Poor Mr. Tuffy, for most of the winter his beloved yard was inaccessible to
him, except for that path. Seeing him out there and watching him looking up, up,
up and the big wall of snow that ran either side of his path reminded me of some
of the wire service photos I saw this winter. You know the ones I mean, where
the snow walls on either side of the highway were impossibly high—several feet
above even taller vehicles, like busses and trucks.
I imagine the
dog felt it was just that high.
For the most
part, the weather is above freezing now. The air has smelled incredibly fresh a
few days this week, and there has been the best sign of spring yet – the sound
of birdsong.
I’m an author,
but I can’t describe to you the specific birdsong I hear. Nor do I (sadly) know
the kinds of birds that are making those songs. But I do know I hear them every
spring. This morning I stood by the open back door and as I listened, I closed
my eyes and could see myself as a child, hearing that very same melody, my heart
uplifted and eager for the warm weather I knew, by that song, was just around
the corner.
There are other
‘natural’ signs of spring, too. We have to be vigilant now to keep our garbage
can lids secured, and have to pull the cat window insert out of our small
kitchen window every evening, so as to frustrate the racoons. I’m not against
these furry creatures foraging for food. I just want them to do it
elsewhere.
The squirrels
have been active too, although I don’t have any fear of them coming into
the house. No, the only thing they do is sit on the branch outside our living
room window and make faces at the dog. I think they like the sound of him
barking like crazy when they do.
The other
sure-fired sign of spring hasn’t happened yet, and this one I’m never happy
about: the invasion of the ants. Every spring, we get ants coming into our
kitchen, which is surrounded on two sides by outside walls. This is an old house
and has a lot of gaps and holes and such. I’ve tried bay leaves and I’ve tried
cinnamon at the sites of their incursion, hoping to stem the flood. If anyone
has any other suggestions, I’d love to hear them. And yes, I have tried sealing
the holes I see, but there are so many more that I don’t.
I think the
ants are just the not-so-funny way Mother Nature has of keeping her finger on
our “buttons” when she has no choice but to finally put away her winter clothes
and let the sunshine in.
Love,
Morgan
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