Over the past few days every time my husband walks through the door, he reports the number and variety of returning birds and moving animals he has seen as he has gone about his daily tasks. I think it means spring is finally here. The young two-legged creatures living in my house can?t seem to keep from staining their clothes with mud and are adding to the evidence of seasonal change, tracking it throughout the kitchen and hallways.
The children have been begging for their bicycles but I?m not quite ready for the splatter patterns they?ll leave on jeans and jackets. When I was growing up in a medium sized Saskatchewan city I couldn?t wait to ride my bike. I?d haul it out of the shed as soon as I could pry open the doors and, after oiling the chain, I?d be spinning around the neighbourhood. I loved the first rides of spring until I got faster and wasn?t as patient with slipping and ripping open my clothes and the skin on my knees and elbows on the gravel spread to keep cars from slipping. I had my final early spring ride of my young life just before being knocked to the ground by a street sweeper. Following the incident I always waited until the street sweepers had made their last passes on the streets and my risk of bodily scarring was reduced.
In this small town paved streets are rare and I?ve once again learned to trust my balance on gravel and manoeuvre around the potholes. My children make a game of avoiding the divots and as I watch families find their way on the street it can look like a game of follow the leader. Our own bikes may still be hanging from the rafters of the garage but the most exciting thing for me to see over the weekend was a family with 3 small children riding their bikes to the arena. I now had my own sign of spring to share with the family at the end of the day.
A new season is in motion and even though I expect we may still see another snowstorm it really does feel like spring. I?ll pull the bikes down when the magnetic pull of the puddles is a little weaker but I admit my children may have inherited it from me. I know I should do the responsible thing and slow down to a crawl when driving through mud but it is impossible for me and the car only gets a little bit dirtier, a little bit higher up than it would have if I had slowed down. I may as well have a little fun getting messy because, unfortunately, spring also means spring cleaning.
