The Outsider: Floods, flies and fanciful thinking
|By Will Jones - The Outsider | February 23, 2017|
I know it’s spring because of the drip drip drip and the army of big fat hairy flies that have emerged from who knows where to live in my office. The darn things are visibly happy about the warming of the weather. I can tell because they buzz around like kamikaze pilots, seeming to take great glee in dive bombing my head as I sit here trying to craft another masterpiece for you folks to read.
Did you see how I got the excuse for a lacklustre column in right at the top of this missive! Blame the insects, I say, it always works.
But spring, it’s here, for sure. Picture me, slippers on, singing “it’s spriiing, it’s spriiing, everything is meltiiing,” while waving my arms around in a circular motion in front of me and hopping from one foot to another (I’m dancing, dad dancing probably but you get the gist) all the while being dive bombed by fat hairy flies.
But I don’t care because Spring is here and I believe it, even if Eric, whom I met at the grocery store thinks that we’re gonna get another blast of winter yet.
Now, Eric is one of those fellows who tends to know about these things. He’s got some kind of direct line to Mother Nature, you see. Eric grows stuff, all kinds of stuff, and he does it really well. Whether it’s Swiss chard or watermelon, heritage garlic or ancient apple varieties, Eric can grow it because he’s in touch with the earth, the sky, and the elements. And yes, in quite a hippy way. But a way that when he says we’re in for another cold spell yet you have to kind of believe him.
And I do but I’m just going to try to ignore him this once and hope he’s wrong because I like this warming of the weather. Even, if it turns my front yard into a river; one which flows directly into the lake that was formerly known as my garage. While, out in my backyard, the actual river slowly rises until it bursts its banks and turns my backyard and as far as the eye can see into a water world the likes of which Kevin Costner would be proud of (well, hopefully he’d be prouder of my water world than his film of the same name).
But, hey, who cares so long as winter is done.
Then again, maybe I am getting a little premature. I mean, if spring comes two months early then surely bug season will follow swiftly, too. We’ll have black flies in March and mosquitoes in April. I’ll soon be ducking for cover as the big fat hairy flies who dive bomb my head don’t do it for fun but instead be intent on taking a chunk out of me, too.
Hmm, the lesser of two evils … another blast of arctic weather or hordes of hungry deer flies? Oh lovely reader, I wonder why do we subject ourselves to such evils but then I swat away another dive bomber and look out of my window and I know my view will look wonderful whatever the season.
WILL JONES - is The Outsider