Geoff Duncan

The signs are all here. Bubba bees are starting to swirl through the plum and cherry trees (which are in—achooo!—bloom right now). Even a few Gigantor Bees have been seen (destroying tiny flowers they're trying to pollinate) and heard (thumping into the walls doing that thing they do which resembles flying).

Today I excavated the first crop of dandelion from the front and side yards. And knocked down the first wave of wasp nests along the side of the garage. And heard the first ice cream truck of the year, circling the park up the street for easy prey. And met some of the neighbors—two of whom, of course, are on the verge of moving elsewhere, but at least now I know their names. We lost next-door neighbors last week: sadly, Brutus went with them.

I dunno. Somehow, this year I can't find enthusiasm for the change of season. Maybe it's all the nasal congestion, or just having lost another hour's sleep to Daylight Saving's Time. Or maybe it's the dark, looming cloud of the IRS on the immediate horizon. Spring's about renewal, but all I can muster up is Ach, here we go again!

At least the sedum out front looks like it's going to have another stellar year.