Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Leaves at Last

Leaves at last. Leaves at last. Thank glorious Mother Nature there's leaves at last.

The first clue should have been the quarter inch of green fuzz that appeared on my car last week, but somehow the significance slipped past my radar.

It wasn't until this morning that I realized distant tree lines had changed from dark, barren spikes jabbing at the sky to rounded scallops in a variety of greens.

Oh sure, I've been enjoying the blossoms of the cherry, pear, and dogwood trees for the past weeks; but it wasn't until sunlight hit the forest of green at just the right angle that I realized we are on the cusp of honest-to-goodness summer.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Trying to Find It

I admit it. I've learned to ignore the flashing headlights of speed demons on the highway who just can't wait an extra minute for me to get out of there way.

But flashing headlights from a car that was slowing down got my attention. If the driver didn't want me out of the way, what was up with the headlight thing?

Keeping one eye on the road ahead and one eye on my rear view mirror I studied the retreating car as headlights flashed, turn signals blinked, and windshield wipers made a dry sweep across the windshield.

Then it was turn signals followed by wipers followed by headlights.

Finally a wet spray covered the windshield, wipers wiped productively and the car picked up speed. I realized the driver had been pushing, pulling, and turning the control arms on either side of the steering wheel in an attempt to wash the windshield.

Have we made cars too complicated for some folks?  Remember when nearly every accessory had it's own button? A button on the dash was pulled out to turn on the headlights, a button on the floor was pushed to switch between high and low beams, the turn signal was just that - a turn signal.

Then again, with all the options cars have now an individual button for everything would require doing away with the passenger seat.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Ooutdoor Easter

For six months I have been waiting for this day to arrive.

Today I am rediscovering the joys of greeting the morning from my back patio without shivering in the chill. Sitting in my rattan chair, squinting against the sun rising directly in front of me and listening to water tumbling down the waterfall into the pond, I am at one with the universe.

A universe shared by acrobatic squirrels leaping and twisting between trees branches, red breasted robins probing the ground for breakfast, and sparrows tuning their voices for the coming concert.

A visit by a rabbit the size of a poodle reminds me this is Easter Sunday and I think how appropriate it is that I should be celebrating the return of outdoor starts to my day on a morning when hundreds of thousands of people are celebrating a return of a different sort.

Here's hoping you all find similar happiness in your Easter morning.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Can't Make It

Forget about amplifying the sound of sniffling, coughing pointedly, or moaning in agony.

Simply tell the boss you've got nothing to wear.

I turned on the radio today just in time to hear the winning answer to the trivia question: Over fifty-nine percent of women polled say they've called in sick for this reason - what's the reason?

Yup, they had nothing to wear.

I'm thinking of all the times I have dragged myself into the office with family sized boxes of tissues, bulk containers of cough drops, and twelve packs of spring water because I didn't feel sick enough to stay home without feeling guilty.

Well now I can throw guilt related stress out the window.

Sorry boss, can't make it. The dog ate the knob on the washing machine and there isn't a laundromat for miles. Repairman says he'll bee here somewhere between 9:00 and 3:00 either Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday.  See ya' when the new part arrives.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Nature's Splash

From behind the steering wheel, I was looking out the passenger window of my car. But it seemed I could easily have been looking through an enormous picture window of a seaside resort.

The morning sky was a blend of pink and yellow pastels, the colors somehow both poignant and muted. The sun, well above the trees, retained the half light of new dawn. A bank of wispy clouds created the appearance I was looking at the day through sheer curtains of rose tinted gauze.

Had it been a seaside resort, artists would have flocked outdoors with easels and brushes only to cry over the impossibility of capturing on canvas what nature had splashed across the sky.

Monday, April 18, 2011

The Color Green

The evening light hit the trees at such an angle that the newly formed leaves glowed a brilliant green.

The brilliant color triggered memories of having read that in some circles the color green is associated with healing.

Wondering what else might be associated with the color, I tickled the computer keys and accessed the Google universe.

Turns out green is associated with creative intelligence, envy, kidney cancer (which doesn't exactly line up with health), the devil, protection, and nature.

At first I saw absolutely no connection in all of this, but then I realized it fit. All of these things are part of a cycle, a cycle most readily seen in nature as we watch the perpetual cycle of birth and death.

In short, green is the color of life.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Was I in Delaware Any More?

It sounded like a thousand metal pellets battering glass.

Holding my breath, half expecting the windows to shatter, I listened to the roar of the wind as it drove the torrential rain against the house. Heavy raindrops battered the windows, siding, and doors mercilessly.

Lightning streaked across the sky the way a disco ball throws flashes of light through a night club and rolls of thunder shook the ground until I thought the driveway would split open.

I nearly ran to the closet in search of pair of ruby red shoes - certain that I was going to need them to get back home when morning came.

Hour after hour the storm continued with no let up. Between wind gusts I heard the frantic peeping of frogs and wondered if they celebrating of crying out warnings.

The rain and wind were still going strong when I fell asleep. When I opened my eyes in the morning, I stumbled to the window. Hesitating momentarily in opening the blinds, I wondered if I would see anything familiar.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Ironic Tax

Emancipation day falls on Friday, April 15 this year.

Because Washington DC will be busy celebrating the abolishment of slavery, U.S. laborers get an extra three days to pay their taxes.

Does anybody else see the irony in this?

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Misplaced Huimor

A mentally exhausting day left me in a strange humor.

And humor is just exactly what struck when I passed a line of cars turning into a funeral home.

I found myself actually considering pulling into the parking lot, getting in line for the viewing, and when I was by the side of the deceased saying:

I had no idea he (or she) had actually gone through with the sex change.

Perhaps I should build a few more de-stressers into my day.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Beginnings of A Spiral

Now I know where the idea for spiral stairs came from - squirrels.

There were a pair of squirrels involved in a lively game of tag today. I noticed they never ran straight up or down the trees. Time and again they spiraled around the trunks as they scurried from ground to branches and back again.

I'm guessing it's an instinctive countermeasure to confuse predators.

But long before that "ah-ha"moment came to me I was imagining a perplexed homesteader trying to figure out how to get a staircase into a compact home. Getting ready to fell the next tree in preparation for making the components of his stair, the builder was startled to have two gray furry critters dash between his feet and spiral up the tree.

Picking up on the gift he had been given, the builder simply axed the tree just below branch height, shoved it through the front door and into the opening to the second floor. After pruning selectively he was left with a set of branches spiraling upward.  Wa-la. The spiral staircase was born

Monday, April 11, 2011

Close Encounter of the Second Kind

It could have been a close encounter of the third kind.

There I was driving home, minding my own business, and accompanying the songs on the radio in my Freddy Mercury falsetto when a noise akin to the howling wind of a category 5 hurricane rattled the very nice and bolts of my car.

Finding nothing to the right of me and nothing to the left, I looked up - to discover something roughly the size of Starship Enterprise overhead.

It was only then I realized I was passing the Air Force base. The small city overhead was not a starship but a standard issue C-10 transport.

I might not have been so quick to breath a sigh of relief if I had known the armed forces had the testing of laser guns on the agenda  today.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Steps Make the Journey

In some ways we humans are not so different from wild animals.

One day after another we rise from our slumbers, set about our daily routines, pause to feed ourselves, and return to our beds.

What makes us different is the desire to improve our circumstances. But our aspirations are often so heady that we fail to enjoy small accomplishments.  Where an animal might might thrill at the discovery of a particularly succulent piece of fruit, we overlook the such momentary accomplishments. So focused are we on the goal at the horizon we miss the improvement of today.

We all ought to remember to allow ourselves a self-administered pat on the back for being more efficient at a single task, for discovering a tastier way to prepare a meal, for allowing more time to spend with a loved one. It is these individual stepping stones that make the longer journey worthwhile.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Hummer A Crazy Tune

The man was definitely insane.

I didn't know who he was, had never seen him before, wasn't near enough to hear him speak, but there was no doubt in my mind the guy was certifiably nuts.

He was driving a sparkling new Hummer 2 with temporary tags.

Only someone whose sanity had fled into the night would buy an eight mile per gallon civilian tank with gas prices nudging toward four dollars a gallon.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Time Lapse Morning

I lived an entire day in forty minutes.

You might have seen those time lapse sequences where a seed sprouts, a stalk grows, leaves fill out, blossoms open, pedals fall, and the stalk wilts all in the span of eighty seconds.

Such was the way today started.  I pulled out of my driveway just as the faintest hints of swirling pastels were forming on the eastern horizon.  Ten miles into my drive, heavy clouds the color of purple twilight were edging in from the west.

Another ten miles and midnight had descended. The flowers of the ornamental trees that had been coaxed into full blossom by the previous eighty degree day fairly glowed in stark contrast to the pitch black.Quickly the trees were obliterated by rain that didn't fall but blew in horizontal sheets.

As quickly a false midnight had descended, clouds thinned and the western sky sported pink finery. Quickly the remaining clouds raced to the northeast, their sheared edges showing the wear of their hurry.

And then, for the second time in the morning, the eastern sky glowed with the windmilling colors of dawn.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Digging Up the Past

There's a surprise in every sand dune.

I can only imagine the adrenaline surge a local beach comber experienced when his metal detector registered something large enough to send the meter right off the scale. The guy had to have dropped to his knees to start digging furiously.

Such a treasure hunter was doing just that kind of furious digging in a sand dune that once provided shelter to a military base during the World War.  The base was home to some "guns" big enough to sink a ship well off shore.

I invite you to picture the expression on the treasure hunter's face when his goldmine turned out to be ordinance from one of those monster guns - not an empty casing, but a fully in-tact "rocket".

I'm betting he dropped his metal shovel in one heck of a hurry.

Hours later authorities showed up on the scene and... you guessed it... DETONATED that World War relic.

I'd be willing to bet I could pick up a metal detector for cheap if I had a mind to,

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Dream Psychosis

It was the socks that made me do it.

There are times I wake from an off-the-wall dream and wonder where in the world that came from.
Once I clear the fog from my head I can frequently track psychotic activities to a movie or television show I watched or perhaps a book I'd read. 

But I could come up with no such explanation last night.  I simply could not put my finger on a "real world" link that would account for strangling people and throwing them into the fireplace that heated an elaborate mansion.

It was only while cooking breakfast this morning that I remembered my dream dismay of discovering I was wearing mis-matched socks.

Which of course explained the brutality.