Judy P's Tickle Trunk

It has been raining off and on for weeks. The sun shone through today just long enough to make some steam and make me feel like I was in a Somerset Maugham novel. The sunshine was short-lived but at least the heavy rain has stopped. The constant drizzle is penetrating and oppressive. My guitar required almost a full turn of the pegs to tune as it has swelled so much with the damp. It is getting harder and harder to stay civil but one doesn’t have to look too far to see some bright spots:

– The evenings are becoming deliciously long. Is called evening because it evens out the extremes of the day; balancing the brief bright sun with the heavy black rain cloudy skies?

– The green grass is greener than green should be. It is growing faster than a pre-teen boy’s shoe size. It is as green as fresh wet paint, as green as the green in a new box of Crayola crayons. Life outside right now is a veritable horticultural question period: Which raspberry canes survived the harsh winter? Which daffs have multiplied and which bulbs are exhausted? How can the slug population possibly outnumber that of the blackflies? Who fed anabolic steroids to the rhubarb? Is there any potential that rhubarb can take over the world?
The flowers are particularly photogenic in this damp with their little water globules reminiscent of those being carried by ants in A Bug’s Life. Both colour and fragrance are enhanced by moisture in the atmosphere and when a stray ray of sunshine does manage to penetrate the grey heavens the flora are ebsolutely electric. As the trendy Torontonians would say: Fabulous!!!

Lupin leaves reach up to embrace the drizzle and adorn themselves with water-droplets; just as pretty as the flowers which will come later.

Discouraged narcissistic daffodils pray for the rain to stop

On the other hand, spring is not without its risks:

– the risk of being attacked by a hyper-vigilant mother robin who has made her nest in the tree without realizing that the house might be occupied early some years, or a Great black-backed gull who fears encroachment on her nest in the salt-water bog.

Robin's nest in Milton

– the risk of seizing up solid as one’s joints corrode by the penetration of the cold, moisture-laiden North Easterly drizzle of the caplin weather.

– the risk of being used as a model for the cover of Weird Al Yankovic’s album “Bad Hair Day”. The frizz is relentless.

– the risk of becoming injured due to an over-enthusiasm for outdoor adventure while still wearing one’s winter fat and having the range of motion of one’s joints limited to the requirements of a rocker recliner.

– the risk of over-accumulation of  junk and foibles from the yard sales of the older folk (almost me now!) who are finally giving in to the cold and snow and taking up residence in small, tidy condos or dented net floats and gently used buoys easily found beach-combing before the kayakers are out. (no, the old folk aren’t living in the buoys but the grammatical error seemed cute and made me smile so I’m leaving it in)

Yes, spring feeds the wander-lust; the longing for adventure, romance, and more and newer outdoor toys. After all, one can never have too many boats and each boat requires accessorizing and then there’s last year’s boating clothing to be replaced because it was worn painting rooms over the winter……but don’t get me started on boats! Early spring brings treasures – the toys lost last year in the tall grass and shrubs of summer. Middle spring brings the wet, and the sharing of the misery of the poor blossoms shivering in the cold wind.  Late spring is my favourite. Here there is a window between the lobster season (the long stretches of rope on the buoys are sitting there just waiting to wrap themselves around your drive-shaft like the tentacles of Pandorica (Dr. Who Season Five)) and the plethora of power-boaters. It is still too cold for them and you can drop anchor and rest in a cozy cove without fear of your supper jumping the fiddle of the table or your cup of hot tea sliding off the centre thwart when the wake of an over-enthusiastic power-boater trying to see how small a dime he can turn on strikes your hull. Best of all tho, it is still much too cold for the bugs. One only has to do one’s best to ignore the cold (neoprene works well) and shed the rain (a sou’wester works nicely). Aaaaah spring.

Tho' April showers.....

Caplin weather– very cold and rainy weather, usually with a Northeast wind. It coincides with the caplin rolling on the beaches to spawn in the spring.
Sou’wester – a fisherman’s hat made of oiled canvas. Designed so that the water runs down one’s back over one’s collar.

There is no such thing as a flattering Sou'wester. This one does not have the rim properly rolled. Purchased at Mercer's Marine in Clarenville Nfld where you could buy anything from a skein of homespun wool to a steel door for a trawler.

(c) copyright 2011