Sadistic Mother Nature

Spring is trying to get sprung here in the Ozarks. The equinox came and went, leaving hope in its wake. The grape hyacinths, regular hyacinths and numerous tulips and jonquils are blooming. Other warm weather plants are growing their greenery in anticipation: the day lilies, rose of Sharon, multi-flower rose and lilacs are all gearing up. Most of the trees are budding out with wild abandon, though the walnuts are still dragging their feet, or roots as the case may be. The geese and other migratory birds are slowly returning, though it will be several weeks before the first hummingbird sighting. Pear and peach trees are putting on gorgeous displays of color as are the brilliant, yellow forsythias. We had our garden turned last week in preparation for the usual tomatoes, peppers, green beans and other veggies. I spent several days last week bopping around in my shorts, tank top and brand new sandals. It was so warm and sunny I thought that spring had finally arrived.

It's near freezing right now and we're expecting two days of snow this weekend.

Mother Nature is really fucking with us. Don't misunderstand me; spring and fall in the Ozarks are always something of a roller coaster ride. It's not uncommon to have snow on the spring solstice or a cold, rainy Beltaine. And it's not uncommon to have a very cold Mabon or a warm Samhain. That's just the way it is around here, always has been and always will be I suppose. But this time I really hate this "two steps forward then two steps back" shit. The last year or so has been really hard on my family and, while some things have improved, the situation is still very tense and uncomfortable at times. The warm weather of the last couple weeks had me feeling better and to have it taken away again is like a hard, cold slap in the face.

I am so ready for spring; I'm enthusiastically eager for green growth and sunny days. I don't even begrudge the pollen that will clog my sinuses like a stopped up sink and make me blow up like a sneezing machine. I'm not too worried about the fleas, ticks, wasps or those little iridescent Japanese fuckers that munch on the grapes and other plants. I'm not concerned about poison ivy, Johnson grass or dandelions. I'm looking forward to mowing the lawn, pulling weeds and getting my hands dirty. I want to pick bouquets of wildflowers and place them on my altar. I want to hear the pond frogs sing all night, every night without fail. I want to listen to the timeless, hypnotic song of crickets and other night creatures. I want to drink in the night sky without catching a chill. I want to soak up the sun with no care in the world other than sunburn.

Mother Nature, it seems, has other plans. I'll have to go back to bringing in wood everyday. I'll have to go back to keeping all the windows shut tight. The outside heat lights will have to stay on for the time being. It's back to socks, long pants and jackets. There won't be any barbecues around here for a while and very little sitting on the back porch watching the sunset. All of the pond frogs have no doubt dug back into the mud leaving the night deathly quiet except for the sound of the gusts here on Windy Hill. I'm not complaining but...oh wait, yes I am complaining. Enough winter already! Come on spring! It's a witches' job to help turn the wheel of the year; I guess I have my work cut out for me.