“That is the question.” — Shakespeare, “Hamlet”
Blogs & Columns
Spring is a magician. A sort of “now you see it, now you don’t” kind of swindler. My case in point: the diminutive snowdrop flowers that appeared in my lawn in fearless, full bloom on March 1 that then disappeared under the drifts of all that March snow we endured.
Although I’d prefer not to be the bearer of bad news, there’s no avoiding the fact that it’s tick time in the Upper Delaware River region. My dogs have already had several, and I came home from a 30-minute photo ramble in Pike County recently with four blacklegged tick nymphs making their way up the legs of my pants.
Opening Day. The words opening day mean different things to different people. For example if you’re a Yankees fan, it means opening day at the ball park. But if you are a trout fisherman, fly fisher, or otherwise, it means only one thing: winter is over, and it’s time to load the car and head to the river.
The March 2 snowstorm and week-long power outage left my household stressed and disheveled, digging out from two feet of snow and numerous downed trees.
They say that “a picture is worth a thousand words,” and I hope it’s true, because it would appear that I’ve actually (gasp!) run out of words.
It’s hard to think of the coming of spring as I write this, because it is still snowing outside. No, not the 15 inches of snow we got a few weeks ago, which, with the wind, caused widespread damage throughout the region. No, this is just a dusting of wet snow that promises to melt with warming afternoon temperatures.
“Everything makes me sad,” I said, as we drove through the city on our way out of town on a recent Saturday. I couldn’t explain it at the time, but I felt its effects. We are making plans for the move I have wanted to make for nearly 20 years. To our home in Narrowsburg, NY, as full-time residents. I should be gloriously happy.
That song, sung by Mary Martin in the musical version of J.M. Barrie’s “Peter Pan,” and the sentiment it expressed, has stayed with me since I first heard it at age five. “I won’t grow up, I don’t want to wear a tie. Or a serious expression, in the middle of July.