Thursday, April 15, 2010


I LOVE spring. Love it.

I get childishly excited when I see a tulip about to bloom and notice new buds on the trees. For every new flower that comes up in our yard, I run inside to tell C. "Guess what? We have grape hyacinth!" (We have lived in our current house for less than a year, and the previous owner planted a variety of bulbs. Every new flower is like a little surprise gift she left just for me.)

I return from walks with my dog to report on the latest builds of the muskrats in the canal (muskrats! I had never seen them before); the current mating phase of the mallards (they have all paired off and found their own nesting sites -- no more hanging out as a flock for awhile); the butterfly cocoons that are about to hatch; the neighborhood cats on the hunt; and the beautiful animals I have seen. (This week, a great blue heron and a pelican. Beautiful!)

C. patiently puts up with my giddy reports and responds with a disinterested "uh-huh."

I don't care. (Where's my sticking-my-tongue-out icon?) This trait is something that has not left me since childhood. I love nature. I love animals. I love watching for little changes and reporting on animal sociology.

I rarely invite anyone else on these walks because I know they wouldn't appreciate them. I would also miss out on the details of my surroundings because I would be talking to my husband or a stepkid (or listening to one of the kids' monologues, more likely). These walks are a gift I give myself several times a week - and I hope to continue the practice for many years to come.

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