Rights of Spring
S.C.Jones
Friday porch sit with Ira
Good Morning, Ira. Sorry to bother you so early today. I felt I needed
this sit a little sooner than last. I'm a little peeved so please don't
let me get you down. I don't often get this way. If you don't mind, I
would like to sit on the sunny side of the porch today.
what? ...oh, I don't know. Those damn deer Ira, the birds, this
cold... I'm so sick of winter I don't think I can take much more...
I'm losing sleep too... no ...I shouldn't burden you with my
problems. ...Really? ...you sure? ...well, first of all, let me just
say thank you for having me down again, and let me, again, tell you how
very nice you really have it here...amadillos, pecans, a lovely fast
driving wife...you got it all friend.
ok...I'll tell you what has me so down. It's this damn cold weather,
Ira. It's disrupting everything. I've got cabin fever and now I am in
terror of losing my sanity... yes ...that's right.
It's the deer, Ira. They've come to my yard in herds and they won't
leave me in peace...what are you laughing about? ...I'm not telling
this to be funny. I am really losing it. Those deer are defecating all
over the place. Think of the deer ticks I'm going to have in the yard
this year. I mean invitation is one thing, but they have extended and
made a home here. Oh, I know what your going to say - I put out the
salt block. I put the feed there.
No, I can't shoot them. My town banned hunting in their wisdom a few
years ago. These deer know their rights. The thing that bothers me
most Ira, is I've got them all on welfare now. Last week I put them on
food stamps. They don't even Appreciate me for it. I felt sorry for
them the other day because we had a howling cold wind come in. The
rivers of Minnesota became swollen and over-running, and the deer came.
They've begun to invite their friends. I've run out of food, my salt
block is down...they've begun to poop...it's a jungle out there.
It's not that funny Ira....you know what else? I've come to hate this
time of year, between Winter and true Spring. It's a twilight
zone...the ominous presence of the sun does this Ira. We don't see the
sun all winter. The deer; the other animals - squirrel, chucks, and
'munks, become docile and depressed...I get cabin fever...the sun is
gone - doesn't exist.
Then one day, somewhere about the middle of March, the day springs
forth with a blinding brilliance, and the ski opens bright blue.
Transformation takes place all through the woods, and new birth and
awakening takes primary stage...and deer run amuck.
Oh, I grant you it is short lived, and they return to normal soon
enough. Perhaps I should not complain. I have their (damn) company.
But this year! Just when they decide to run rampant through my yard and
cause me alarm, I get the second coming of the birds. Yea - the damn
birds have come back. They flew up in the sun and joined us in the new
dawning blizzard.
Now, I normally like the return. I highlight it as my Spring renewal.
My fever begins to break with the arrival of the birds. I become
rejuvenated and I energize again. I like birds normally.
Birds have their phase, here too, Ira. They come in flocks and great
migrations one day, and the next few they are all a-twitter and
a-flight, darting this way and that after bobbed tail and delight; find
mate, mate find.
It's during that short time that I hate them. They smack my windows in
their lust. They test and tease my cat, and they squawk incessantly in
their joy of ritual. This arrival, this year, brought no joy for them,
but they still smack my windows, Ira. Stop that...I find no humor
friend.
Taken separately I could take the deer and the birds. Taken as separate
events I might even find some renewed meaning to life, but this fierce
wind at my door, and those swirling flakes of snow at my frozen lake
give me no comfort.
I have deer looking in at me now, begging for more, and I have larks,
robins, and sparrows committing kamikaze on me, only to smack against
the invisible shields of my sanity.
No Ira. I find no joy in my home right now. I find no relief...I have
fever that will not go away. I cannot tell you friend, how much, I now
enjoy this porch. You, of all people, are most fortunate and blessed,
my friend.
What's that amadillo doing out there by my car, Ira? What? ....no. I
thought only dogs did that.
Best to you friend,
Rights of Spring
Revised: April 11, 1997
Comments welcome.
All contents copyright (C) 1997, S.C.Jones
All rights reserved.
URL: http://www.oocities.org/Athens/Acropolis/1915
