Spring

I have always seen Spring as a teaser season that encourages me to anticipate. As a child, I anticipated the end of the school year, days on bicycles with friends exploring every nook and cranny of our world, picnics and barbeques, family outings at the beach, hearing the ice cream truck several blocks away and running out to buy ice cream when the truck finally arrived in our block, trying to catch fireflies in a jar (Oh, so very, terribly, comically unsuccessful), Flying kites and falling when the wind was too gusty or I just wasn't paying attention to where I was going, Dad occasionally buying us a fresh, sweet watermelon from the produce truck that pretty-much used the same technique as the ice-cream truck; rolling down the streets while the barker shouted a kind of melodic announcement of, "WaterMelONNN"; playing with the dog and her puppies in the yard and drinking fresh-squeezed lemonade, eating snow-cones, popsicles and more.

As an adult, the anticipation still remains. I look forward to bicycling on the trails at the surrounding forest preserves and along the Fox River. We go RV camping at forest preserves and national parks. We get up whenever we please, cook a hellacious breakfast that we enjoy outside, and then hit the trails. We hike for short periods -- no longer than about two hours -- and then hit more trails. We explore small caves, find waterfalls and lookouts, follow lakes and rivers, and sometimes go off-trail into dangerous territory because my friend is insane.

Once, we left trail to follow an alternate off-trail path that looked like it might be interesting. I protested, but went anyway. After several uphill-downhill variations, we ended up at a huge, steep chasm with no way ahead other than what looked like some kind of animal path about ten inches wide on the side of the chasm. It was a dirt path that was somewhat wet because of rain the previous day, but not muddy. I balked. Just standing there, I felt my stomach turning around and trying to make a mad dash to safety without me. I wanted to turn back, but we had already been through some rough terrain. I was afraid to go forward and afraid to go back by myself. Did I mention that I have severe vertigo in high places? Just watching people in high places on TV makes my stomach drop.

I went. By the time we finally reached some actual land with solid footing suitable for humans, I was a trembling wreck. I had shortness of breath, heart palpitations, and anxiety.

On a more leisurely note, I find spring to be a fine time for exploration and relaxation. In other words, "just chillin'."

Take yesterday, as an example. I planned this really relaxing day just sitting out on the deck, reading with the radio in the background and enjoying the regeneration of the flowering trees and perennials. Just beautiful. I was in my ultra relaxation rocking chair with the deck umbrella up and the radio playing quietly in the background. I was reading at the table. Sometimes I read, sometimes I just rock and watch, enjoying the scenery as the world comes alive again.

Alex was laying in a patch of warm sun in the corner, just enjoying himself. I was watching the people walking by. There's the guy down the street walking with his little boy while the boy rides his big-wheel ATV. There's the young woman walking her yappy little purse dog that is so small and obnoxious, even a coyote wouldn't bother with the aggravation. Hmm... There's someone new. A new jogger. Good for her! As she gets closer, I notice something. Wow, look at those bazongas vigorously flopping up and down. Ouch! I feel pain just looking. I wanted to call her aside and tell her that there are sports bras for those of us who are well-endowed and maybe she should check that out. We need to take care of those girls so that they don't start to sag before their time. But I was afraid that she may not have appreciated the advice, so I just watched her flopping by

After a while I decided to take a walk myself. Alex and I went inside and I got his harness and leash. He gave me his happy, excited look. Alex is a Siberian forest cat. He thinks he's a dog. He likes being walked and he like baths. When the door bell rings, he pounces to the door to greet whoever may be on the other side with a happy-cat smile. We went out walking to the little lake nearby

People are always surprised to see Alex. They ask me how I got him to walk on a leash and what kind of cat he is. Some people smile and watch us, some people laugh, and some come up and start conversations. Alex and I enjoy the attention. He's big and friendly. Some of the dogs growl as he walks by. He just looks at them as though he can't understand their animosity. Some of the dogs are friendly. Today he met a puppy named Shy. Shy wagged his tail and smelled Alex. Alex gave him a meow hello and rubbed against him. Shy licked Alex on the nose and they started to play. As they played, we humans talked and actually exchanged numbers.

Spring is a great time to meet people.