Seriously Yours

"It is a serious thing to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree helping each other to one or the other of these destinations.

It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics.

There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors."
- C.S. Lewis

Found at Whiskey River this morning on my rambles through the Blogosphere. Ponderous thought.

Spring

Almost all of the snow from the recent storm has melted. Only tiny islands of white remain in my yard. The snowdrops and aconite are coming up. If we continue to have weather as warm as today, they might bloom and die by the weekend. I hope not, for I really need their cheerfulness.

There's a new hatch of crowlets visiting the trees in the yard; just barely fledged, their flights are short and erratic. They're tree-hopping more than flying right now. Their older siblings and parents park them in trees along the back alley and around the barn and workshop, while they go off scouting for food; meaning, other birds' nests to raid. It's too soon for the insects they like to eat.

I heard a flock of Canada geese overhead a little while ago, a sound I listen for twice a year. It is a melancholy sound, yet hopeful; encouraging, even. All those birds, following each other, calling to one another. I never know if those that honk are calling cadence for the rest, or just making reassuring sounds, or giving flight directions. In the fall, there will be new geese in the south-bound formations, hatched this spring along the lakes and ponds to the north of here.

Last night, there was a cat fight in the back yard, the first of the season. Guess the queens are coming into heat, or the toms are marking territories again - maybe both. Maybe they're just letting off steam, after being cooped up during the snowy days.

Other signs of spring: groundhogs in the fields; maple trees looking furry with swelling buds; kids out on skateboards again; muscle cars racing up and down the streets, peeling off layers of rubber from their tires, which they couldn't do on snow-covered streets; and - my favorite - herds of motorcyclists riding down the highways and streets, their engines full-throttle, their calls of the open road roaring in my ears for miles after I pass them.

Fortunately, the warm air heats up the house during the day so that I don't have to turn the furnace up too high, which means the fuel oil will go a little further between fill-ups. I am grateful for that. The nights are still cold, but not freezing like a few weeks ago. I can put some of the blankets away...well, maybe I should wait until April to do that, just in case. The Old Farmer's Almanac forecasts a heavy snow for around the middle of this month, and they are rarely wrong. Wait: there was that hurricane in 1937 they missed, that ripped up the Atlantic coast and beat up New England rather badly, but other than that...can't hold them accountable for freakish events such as that.

Change is coming, to be sure. Some of it is oh-so welcome; some, like finishing this divorce settlement, not so much. It looks like it's going to turn into a dirty fight to the finish. This might be the perfect season for it, though.

I mean, there's all this mud about.

For Fresca

Sorry I can't be in town to take you up on your offer, Fresca, but I hope your birthday is everything you wish for...and then some!