SALAD DAYS ARE NOT ALWAYS GREEN
Though we are half way into April, in my part of the world the weather can turn from chilly to warm and back again as fast as a sneeze. Much of the month has been rainy though a few warmer days have brought people flooding into the park where I walk. Last Friday was no exception. It had rained the previous night and left puddles shining along the pavement. Still, from the number of people playing Frisbee with their dogs and children bicycling in the lanes, it might have been the 4th of July. The grass was soggy, of course, and spotted with patches of mud which neither the dogs nor the children could resist… though I heard one parent sigh as he watched his daughter and her Springer Spaniel wade into the muddiest bog they could find. She was no more than 4 or 5 yet she carried herself like a queen as she lowered herself into the middle of the puddle while her four footed friend did likewise and then proceeded to cover himself in mud by rolling on his back.
People who live in the Pacific Northwest tend to go a little crazy at the first pipings of warm weather. An acquaintance muttered to see these intermittent signs of a warming. “Why am I headed to Mexico when it will soon be gorgeous here?”
Our season of glory in my part of the world is short I admit, three months or four at best, and we dream of it yearlong with the anticipation of youngsters waiting for Christmas. Even the first sighting of a budding tree leaves us giddy.
I left the owner of the Springer Spaniel staring down at his child with his hands on his hips. No doubt he was imagining wife’s reaction when they came home. If I’d known him well enough, I might have sung him a song from the musical, “Salad Days,” (blog: 10/20/2010). It might have explained things to his wife:
“Mud, mud, glorious mud.
There’s nothing like mud for cooling the blood.
So follow me follow,
Down to the hollow,
And there let us wallow…
In glorious mud!”