Signs of Spring

Signs of spring abound everywhere; some are comically delightful, like llamas deciding to travel--or not--to the pastures. I swear you can hear them deliberating. Or Mickey making his debut in the great outdoors, absolutely priceless. Then there's the growing green that with warm weather seems to coincide with the wearing of the Green and Irish annual celebrations. The daffodils are peeking up through thawed ground, and the hills are alive (not with the sound of music) with early bulbs budding. But the surest of the signs of spring for life on the farm is -- other people's trash.

I am not inclined to rant; there's simply no percentage in it and nothing to gain beyond venting. But here goes the big vent, one that has been escalating for years. What is it about people who think the country is the place for them to dump their garbage, to litter the landscape with their latest lunch or dinner refuse, or even breakfast for that matter. All forms of garbage litter our landscape, as if it is a national right to garbage dump whenever possible. Either help or I literally fill a garbage bin each week picking up roadway litter. I love exercise, but I hate garbage.

All of which leads me to speculate about what's wrong with America. True we have trillions of dollars of national debt, likely beyond repayment. Taxes escalate; gas prices rise; national health care looms in our near future at the expense of robbing Medicare. Eisenhower balanced the budget by depleting Social Security, setting a trend for presidents to follow. Yet what roils me most is the common man's disregard for property rights of others. Why is it that city folk long for the country and then, when finding it. litter it with abandon. Amen. End of rant.

This past week's weather was, I suspect, an early vernal tease. Surely the weather will turn colder again. I read Ryan's Weather Blog (what a delightful student) and he keeps all of us honest and on track with climate changes. So if he says we're dipping back to the 40s before spring sets in for good, I believe him. Still, this past week, fraught with challenges on a personal level, has been bucolic, restful, calming, and reassuring that as the blanketing of winter disappears, the promise of spring brings new life and new hope for a better tomorrow.

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