So…. I’m walking along early in the morning now and there are more and more bird sounds out there to be heard. During the winter there are always a few–cardinals, goldfinches, the ever-present sparrows, miscellaneous die-hards who have memorized the locations of every birdfeeder within several hundred yards. You also get the occasional Wrong Way Corrigan who wandered here by mistake and is still looking for palm trees–but now it’s a real chorus in full throat as the sun rises. We won’t even count the Canada geese; honking is not singing.
And I’m thinking that with the kind of crazy Spring (Yes, Virginia, there really is a Spring, no matter how much of that chilly white stuff you’ve seen on the ground since March 20.) we’ve had, I can guess what the tenor of these fine-feathered remarks coming from the female birds of the species to the males must be, to wit :
“Let’s go back early, you said. It’ll be fine, you said. The global warming is hitting all over and it’ll surely be happening in Ohio, you said. It’s Spring, for heaven’s sake, you said. We’ll get the best twigs and branches for nest-building, you said. Won’t have to put up with some bluebird bully for the best tree locations, you said. The best birdfeeders will still be full like they were last Spring, you said. Ha!
“Well, let me tell you something, Mr. March-goes-out-like-a-lamb. There will be NO egg-laying, nor any of the preliminaries, until the sun can be seen on a regular basis. I will NOT be sitting on some god-forsaken nest with icicles dripping from my brand-new season’s tailfeathers. I will NOT be trying to eat frozen wormsicles for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Got that, Mr. Early Bird?”
And the reply, I’d be willing to bet, is probably the avian equivalent of “Yes, Dear.” Right?
Other signs of the purported Spring include the work on the Liberty Street bridge, the one nearest my backyard. I have been keeping an eye on this–well, the County Engineer cannot be there all of the time and surely they can use a volunteer supervisor–while folks nearest the project are getting an earful, with all of the extremely large machine doing extremely noisy work…lotsa dirt moving from place to place, big holes being dug, giant I-beams swinging into place, rivets. It’s starting to look like a real bridge, not just a dam with tourist look-outs on either side. I think that the ducks in the neighborhood have been a little confused but they’re still paddling around There’s probably a nest down there somewhere. I love it when there are ducklings. The sign says 90 days, so that gives us until May 19. Keep you posted.
Another Spring Thing coming up is the primary elections in May. People tend to brush them off as being of little importance but nothing could be further from the truth; they’re all important, from top to bottom. The very locals–townships, counties, municipalities, specific issues having to do with community services–are the ones that touch us right where we live, literally, right now. The state and regional items on the ballot address issues and public servants a little more removed, but equally important. We ignore all of these at our peril and often at a cost. Not paying attention to the primaries and then complaining that, “There’s never anybody good to vote for,” shows a lack of understanding of how the system works. And besides, if you think that, “There’s never anybody good to vote for,” then it ought to be easy for YOU–good citizen that you are–to run for office yourself, or work for an issue or whatever, to show us all how to do things right. Right?
Anyway, the Portage County Board of Elections–and, I’m sure every other board of elections around here–is, like the U.S. Marine Corps, looking for a few good men…and women. The training sessions for this set of primaries are probably closed by now but you can get your name on the list to be a poll official in November. You want to be wanted? Here’s your chance. Step up and make a difference.
Another indoor sign of Spring was the crafter/vendor event in support of the EMS/First responders held the other day at the fire station. Most of the usual suspects were in attendance with their handmade creations and vouched-for products for health and beauty (I skipped those. Can you tell?). Lots of meeting and greeting going on all over the cleared-out fire engine bays (They always take the trucks out in case there might–God forbid– been actual fire someplace. It would not be cool to have the hook-and-ladder going down the street trailing a selection of ladies’ garments and weight-loss products hooked on as they tried to get out and away. The Chinese auction items were appealing. The maple products were a testament to perseverance in the face of adversity for anyone trying to sweet talk the trees into giving it up this year. The fun feature this year was the food truck out front. It was from Tuscarawas County (New Philadelphia) and was named “Three Little Piggies”, featuring mostly–surprise!–pork and chicken. Vegetarians must have been a bit disappointed but there was mac-n-cheese on the menu. Pretty tasty, I have to say, and reasonably priced. I noticed that a number of the firefighters were there–in the interest of science, surely–checking out the fiery sauces for reporting to a Weight Watchers hit squad, in case a fire extinguisher might be required. Watch for the truck…and the event…next year.
Applicable quote from the Old Farmer’s Almanac : “Plant your ‘taters when you will, they won’t come up before April.” Right.
