Maybe not in fact, but in essence, this is the first day of summer. Everything is waking up.
Less than three weeks ago we had a snowstorm, but today the temperature has soared to at least 21°C (70°F). Mothers are taking their newborn babies for walks in the park; you can hear them squalling in their carriages.
Garter snakes are a sure sign that fine weather has arrived to stay. They're slithering everywhere, jumpy and excited as birds, because their blood is suddenly warm. One small but aggressive one practically leapt out of the grass as I passed on the path. Another, in its anxiety to escape, dropped off the bank into the edge of the river, then crawled onto dried weeds over the water and sat considering me with its lightning tongue, wondering whether to dare a return to solid ground. He turned his head to scrutinize me squarely with both eyes. Eventually he slipped gracefully along the shore. He was long and elegant, a veteran of more than one summer I suppose.
I want to tell my children they can learn more from watching wild creatures than from possessing them. Always, children want to catch things. But by squatting there on the riverbank for a few minutes and watching the snakes, I got a deeper sense of what the creature is.
Today for the first time, I observed a muskrat. I've only caught glimpses before, heard a quiet lick of water as a furry mass slipped warily into invisibility along the bank. They're shy creatures, and won't let you see them, even from the far side of the stream, as this one was.
It must have been the fine weather, filling its veins with desire, adventure and boldness. It sat for perhaps a minute, seeming to wash its forepaws as a raccoon will do. I didn't know for sure whether it was a muskrat, or perhaps a small beaver or groundhog, until it slipped into the verge of the Eramosa. A groundhog wouldn't swim. This muskrat, though small, rode higher than a beaver, and left no trail of any remarkable tail.
Even then, on the water, it didn't quickly elude my sight, but glided blissfully along in daylight, sliding easily under low branches. Then suddenly it vanished and I saw no more sign of it.
I guess this weather must fill even the muskrat with industrious elation.
And I can feel it, too. I've had a tormented state of mind these past few days, anxious and restless but unmotivated. As the weather grew finer, I ignored it, whittling away at small endeavours in my hermitage. But finally this afternoon I forced myself out. I communed with the sun, the swollen river, and the waking creatures. And to tell the truth, I could feel my spirits rising.
All written material and images are ©1997-2002 Van Waffle. This page updated Apr. 16, 2002.
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