The Sounds of Spring
Hundreds of migrating robins descended on my backyard this morning. After weeks of grey and overcast and dreary weather, these sounds of spring light up the air. Here is a short clip of the music filling our day here in St. Petersburg. We'll remind them to continue north if they stick around too long. Enjoy:
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Winter Grey
The overcasts of January and February. Cool and even chilly air. Sometimes rain, but clearly not enough. We have some of the mildest weather of the contiguous United States, which explains the filled up roadways and endless false turn-signals everywhere I go, but except for a day or two here or there, winter has not delivered a very sunny face this 2011. The storms that have battered almost the whole of the other 47 states, have also pulled moisture from our climate. Day after day of not enough rain and not enough sun.
The changes have come, nevertheless. The stump, you might note, is completely gone. Burned out at last and now used as the burial ground for the Spanish moss that drops intermittently into the yard. The whole scene looks dead or dying, but the truth is that if you were to bend down close and look between the dead pieces, you would see that everything has suddenly started to grow again. (Which strikes me as fine metaphor for the happenings in North Africa, if I may digress.) Seeds are sprouting everywhere, vines and trees are pushing out their buds. Another week, or three, and this landscape will be more obviously turned toward spring.
The start of spring means changes for the kids, both of whom have been playing soccer in the Southside League since late fall. Maxim did not have a very productive season. Her coach was a 16-year-old high school soccer player who had a difficult time seeing the U-10 girls as anything other than little kids. And the absence of leadership took the spirit out of her team. Noah on the other hand, who seems to want to fulfill his mother's dream of playing for the Argentine national soccer team, has been chosen to play on the U-8 All star team, playing for a regional championship in two weeks. He also started baseball, with tryouts last week and formal practices beginning this past Wednesday. He's not very focused when he's in around the house. But put him on a playing field, and he seems to come alive with attention. Today he scored four of the nine goals scored by his team. Maxim, for her part, has decided to return to dancing. She reminds me of me when I was in my early teens. She wants to be a performer. Unlike me, however, she has some genuine talent. She is artistically very brave and creative. She wrote her first real song this week "On Your Side" by Maxim:
Out in the yard things are starting to flower. This Spanish needle, a native annual flowering plant, some would call it a weed, is blooming everywhere and is the greenest thing in the landscape at the moment.
This potted plant has also just sent up its first flower. An orange sunset of a bloom, but not yet fully exposed to the day. Perhaps tomorrow.
Our butterfly flower, a colorful milkweed and the favorite plant of Monarch butterflies, has itself decide to begin a blooming cycle once again. You can see the giant pods containing feathery seeds as well as the reddish orange future flowers to its left.
And our beach sunflower has been blooming like the Spanish needles, at a steady rate for weeks, well-adapted to the varied winter climate.
Spring will not formally arrive, according to our shared calendar, for about six more weeks. But here on this heap of sand covered limestone, spring is upon us, the snow banks are melting, rivers are swelling, and the air is thick with a nose-swelling pollen. We welcome the arriving season with a renewed spirit of hopefulness and an anticipation of great things to come.
The overcasts of January and February. Cool and even chilly air. Sometimes rain, but clearly not enough. We have some of the mildest weather of the contiguous United States, which explains the filled up roadways and endless false turn-signals everywhere I go, but except for a day or two here or there, winter has not delivered a very sunny face this 2011. The storms that have battered almost the whole of the other 47 states, have also pulled moisture from our climate. Day after day of not enough rain and not enough sun.
The changes have come, nevertheless. The stump, you might note, is completely gone. Burned out at last and now used as the burial ground for the Spanish moss that drops intermittently into the yard. The whole scene looks dead or dying, but the truth is that if you were to bend down close and look between the dead pieces, you would see that everything has suddenly started to grow again. (Which strikes me as fine metaphor for the happenings in North Africa, if I may digress.) Seeds are sprouting everywhere, vines and trees are pushing out their buds. Another week, or three, and this landscape will be more obviously turned toward spring.
The start of spring means changes for the kids, both of whom have been playing soccer in the Southside League since late fall. Maxim did not have a very productive season. Her coach was a 16-year-old high school soccer player who had a difficult time seeing the U-10 girls as anything other than little kids. And the absence of leadership took the spirit out of her team. Noah on the other hand, who seems to want to fulfill his mother's dream of playing for the Argentine national soccer team, has been chosen to play on the U-8 All star team, playing for a regional championship in two weeks. He also started baseball, with tryouts last week and formal practices beginning this past Wednesday. He's not very focused when he's in around the house. But put him on a playing field, and he seems to come alive with attention. Today he scored four of the nine goals scored by his team. Maxim, for her part, has decided to return to dancing. She reminds me of me when I was in my early teens. She wants to be a performer. Unlike me, however, she has some genuine talent. She is artistically very brave and creative. She wrote her first real song this week "On Your Side" by Maxim:
And the rest of us, Marcela and me and the two cats, one dog, and one goldfish, continue along our way. Marcela has been working for the Pinellas County School system as a substitute teacher. Last week in a third grade classroom, after she returned from escorting one of the students out of the room, a young girl had her hand raised. Marcela called on her and she said, "Dariem said that you were a green toad when you were outside." Without missing a beat, Marcela acted surprised and exclaimed, "He did! How did you know Dariem?" To which a third child said with wonder and perhaps a small amount of fear, "Are you really a green toad." "Yes I am," she said in her delightful Argentinean accent. "Do know Lake Maggiore? That's where I live. When I leave here I'll turn back into a toad and hop on home." There was a pregnant, uncertain pause and then one of the students, Olivia, who was in pre-K with Noah and has been to our house, shouted, "Noooo! I know where she lives. I know where her house is, she isn't a green toad! She isn't!" And another looked at Marcela and asked again, "Are you really? or Aren't you?" "She's not! She a person!" And, so, as you can imagine, she got along pretty well with the kids after that.
Out in the yard things are starting to flower. This Spanish needle, a native annual flowering plant, some would call it a weed, is blooming everywhere and is the greenest thing in the landscape at the moment.
This potted plant has also just sent up its first flower. An orange sunset of a bloom, but not yet fully exposed to the day. Perhaps tomorrow.
And our beach sunflower has been blooming like the Spanish needles, at a steady rate for weeks, well-adapted to the varied winter climate.
Spring will not formally arrive, according to our shared calendar, for about six more weeks. But here on this heap of sand covered limestone, spring is upon us, the snow banks are melting, rivers are swelling, and the air is thick with a nose-swelling pollen. We welcome the arriving season with a renewed spirit of hopefulness and an anticipation of great things to come.
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