Daffodils are nodding on their tender necks, crocuses are spurting up like little gold and purple flames, and the trees—ah, the trees!—are adorning themselves with gauze and froth, veils and fountains of fragrant petals as luminous and fragile as dawn light.
It’s horrible.
Oh, of course I delight in looking at them, the boughs swaying in the breeze, the cascades of delicate blossoms, the vivid colors a welcome relief from the never-ending grey of winter. But I’d be able to appreciate them a lot more if my eyes weren’t swollen and maddeningly itchy, and if the tantalizing perfumes in the air didn’t choke me and turn my nose into a gushing faucet.
I don’t begrudge the trees their desire to have sex. But not only do they not do it behind closed doors—not only do they wave their frilly genitalia brazenly in the open air—but they waft their randy pollen on the winds as well—sometimes inadvertently, sometimes deliberately to seek out mates. –And it’s for that that I can’t forgive them, regardless of their beauty. The agonies of the tree-allergy sufferer are not to be sneezed at.
So to speak.
It’s horrible.
Oh, of course I delight in looking at them, the boughs swaying in the breeze, the cascades of delicate blossoms, the vivid colors a welcome relief from the never-ending grey of winter. But I’d be able to appreciate them a lot more if my eyes weren’t swollen and maddeningly itchy, and if the tantalizing perfumes in the air didn’t choke me and turn my nose into a gushing faucet.
I don’t begrudge the trees their desire to have sex. But not only do they not do it behind closed doors—not only do they wave their frilly genitalia brazenly in the open air—but they waft their randy pollen on the winds as well—sometimes inadvertently, sometimes deliberately to seek out mates. –And it’s for that that I can’t forgive them, regardless of their beauty. The agonies of the tree-allergy sufferer are not to be sneezed at.
So to speak.
{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}
3 comments:
even though nothing is blooming here, my eyes have been bothering me since mid-February. Dry, itchy, irritated. Just how long is spring?
Ah, yes, but in D.C. at least you have spring, whereas where Patti and I are, we're wearing winter coats, boots, etc., AND have itchy eyes from the maple buds and others who've begun. As have the birds, but at least their "pollen" is more specifically directed.
For anyone interested in more on spring, spring-time, and when it's occurring, visit this site: http://www.usanpn.org/
(It's the US National Phenology Network--they explain themselves pretty clearly, too, in spite of the name)
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