The Adolescence Of The Season
We slept in our recliners last night, and other than a bit of tossy-turnyness, it wasn’t a bad night’s sleep. When we awakened, I found that it had gone chilly overnight. Rain is supposed to move in again later today, and the next few days the temperatures will drop a bit, with frost a possibility.
Spring in this region is a sort of seasonal adolescence. Unsettled and mercurial, with expected patterns and routines suddenly tumped-over by exciting or terrifying changes, then calming back down to a slow flow. This makes the days seem shorter, the evening skies more dramatic after the cloud sprites have had at the heavens with their brushes and palette knives. Then when the summer walks in in his unobtrusive way, all things will settle into a long, slow stretch, with hazy mornings, decades-long afternoons accompanied by locusts and katydids, and the never-taken-for-granted lightning bug shows in the evenings.
For now, it’s all stretching its arms towards the limitless sky, yawning and shaking its self, wiping its eyes and looking around to see what’s next. It’s that time of year when I keep my eyes on the trees, hoping to see a raindrop dangling from a glossy leaf, or a fat red squirrel stretched along the trunk of a maple with his tail whipping, or a daddy longlegs picking his way across rough, gray bark. For some time now, I’ve been absolutely convinced that trees are not just living things, but that they are aware of us, of our presence, perhaps even of our intentions. I watch them as I move among them, mindful of the massive life-force within them and fascinated with the worlds they contain within themselves.
~ S.K. Orr
4 Comments
Craig Davis
One of the greatest advantages of living in the Rocky Mountain region is that it is still possible, with not too much effort, to get to places where you can be truly away from civilization and alone, albeit without lightning bugs.
admin
Ah, now that’s a lovely area. We spent time in Colorado some years back, visited Pike’s Peak, looked at houses and jobs, etc. We ended up not moving there, but I have many clear memories of the dramatic natural beauty of that region. Plus, we’re big John Denver fans…
Craig Davis
Ah, lightning bugs. A pleasant image from my youth in the east. They don’t live in Colorado, so I rarely think of them anymore. On the rare occasions when I am reminded, it brings a wave of nostalgia and a longing for the innocence of childhood.
admin
Oh, I remember chasing lightning bugs on summer evenings when I was a boy. Catching them and putting them in a jar with holes poked in the top and putting them by my little bed, and releasing them in the morning. I think my mother crept in and released them a few times during the night.
In the Great Smokey Mountains National Park a couple of hours from here, they have an annual thing where hordes of people trek into the woods and set up chairs at twilight and wait for the light show the little fellows put on. The synchronized flashing, when done by hundreds of thousands of lightning bugs, is a jaw-dropping spectacle. This year, however, the covidiocy has caused them to cancel the event. Part of me is glad, though…there’s something vulgar about crowds of iPhone addicts coming into such a holy place and having to be constantly and aggressively shushed by the rangers because they’re too busy talking about some celebrity to pay attention to the sacred hush beneath the trees.