Dancing With The Squirrels

It’s a week before the start of Spring, the end of Winter. The weather has been just fine these past days. May I quote from the Rubaiyat (Persian poetry) of Omar Khayyam? It has several of my favorite sayings, including this one:

"Come, fill the cup, and in the fires of Spring, your Winter garment of repentance fling."

Yea, we made promises many during that dread period. But the sun doth shine again, the bird is on the wing, rabbits are doing their multiplication tables and squirrels chatter in the trees. How can one repent at a time like this?

It is time to frolic with the squirrels, to toss peanuts in the air and watch them bat the nuts around like players in a beach volleyball game. Robins brace themselves against the worm’s efforts to spend the evening with the wife and kids, rather than flying around the city, experiencing a view they’ve never seen before.

Meanwhile, I’m in the backyard dancing with the squirrels, hands in paws, welcoming the coming nice weather. Will it last? Short range, probably not; there will be cool, if not cold, days and nights. Long range, most certainly.

Our little garden-wreckers may little understand, nor long remember, the earth’s angle relative to the sun’s position in the sky, but they do know things will get better and it is time to rejoice.