The Five Senses of Spring
The snow is long gone and now we are on the verge of nights in the beer gardens and days at the ball game. Spring tells us a lot about ourselves. Take the first time you put your shorts on. Wow, I guess eggnog is really fattening, or I did not think it was possible to get any paler. Regardless, its time to roll down the windows and embrace the tell tale signs that embody how our five senses know its spring.
Close your eyes. Well metaphorically, I still would like you to read on. It is only a matter of time before we all give each of our sentences the precursor of “what?” Until then the sounds of spring can lift one’s spirits like saline implants. In the middle of winter we hear nothing, maybe the sloshing of snow onto the curb. Come spring, we have the birds chirping, children without court supervision laughing, and of course some yahoo blasting his car stereo from five blocks away.
It really does not matter when the birds chirp, it is when Raul slows down and you can hear the bass from his Ford Festiva reverberate over the tactfully sexual lyrics. The neighborhood is going to hell in a low riding bike’s hand basket.
The sounds perhaps are ever-present but it is when we roll down our windows or ride our bikes. I can fondly recall the time when I heard some children laughing uncontrollably in a front yard. I looked over my shoulder to witness their joy only for it to end abruptly when attempted my first unintentional summersault from a bike over a parked car. It was a failure.
Contrary to popular belief, the feeling of spring is not love. Spring is not the season of monogamy. The way the flowers solicit their pistils to the bees, well let’s not talk about that. The feeling of spring is irritation.
There is nothing better than breathing through one nostril for ten weeks. Allergies are fascinating to me. How is it that I can be sick yet still go out and socialize? I always find it funny how people walking down the street, sneeze into their hand (don’t spread the germs) and inconspicuously brush their hip.
Snot aside, rubbing one’s eyes is another tell tale sign of irritation. How does something called ragweed control so many people? Allergies are getting out of control nowadays. I am allergic to hay fever. I don’t think it is right for one to be effected by something they cannot explain.
I grew up with one of my friends being allergic to everything. Whenever we had a cub scout outing we had a laundry list of things that Greg couldn’t do. It basically came to us making him unofficial photographer. The kid was allergic to egg, milk, bees, work, but when I heard he was allergic to grass that baffled me. “How can that be possible? You walk to school. You walk to school by walking on grass. How long does it take you to get down the driveway and pass the hedges? Are you really allergic or do you just not want to dive for the ball in the outfield?”
The scent of a freshly mowed lawn is very refreshing, to many folk except the aforementioned allergy king. Before the lawn is mowed, there is other work to do. Spring-cleaning outside is one of the biggest chores for a kid. Never will you see a kid negotiate for either money or extended curfew more than at this time. Parents know too, that these tasks smell horrendously, that is why for twenty bucks and two movie tickets they hire out their migrant children.
No longer than ten minutes into it I grab underneath some dead leaves and discover a “missing” toy. “Oh, that’s where my baseball went. Why does it smell like death?” It really is strange how the dead leaves of last fall make for a coffin to anything beneath it. I never have gone grave robbing but raking the back yard is close enough.
I always knew it was springtime when mom would come back from the grocery store with some Popsicles. Those things were like gold on a stick for kids. Remember the day you had your first dreamsicle? The name alone, dreamsicle just embodies the attitude of the youth. “What’s in a dreamsicle?” I said. “Well Mike, its an orange Popsicle (score) with vanilla ice cream inside.” “WHAT?!! You can do that? Who was this person to make my dreams into a tasty smooth confectionary treat? I would like to meet them and proclaim them to be the greatest person to walk this green, rash causing grass.
There is only one way for spring to get better than a dreamsicle, women’s fashion. No, I don’t wear it, sober. Once I hit adolescence, dreamsicles where a thing of the past. I now had noticed the ever so wonderful, sundress. People always say bad things only happen to good people. Hello, there is not an article of clothing that better shows the ease and relaxation of the spring season like a sundress. Now for the not so philosophical truth. I think girls in sundresses are so so so attractive.
It’s the little things in life that are important. During these months it is how it should be metaphorically, impossible to sweat the small stuff.