Most people enjoy this time of year by exclaiming they can smell spring in the air. I wonder if they realize they smell all the little crawly things that are born and rot when the ground goes from rock hard to the consistency of old mush. Those of us with allergies know the first sign of spring is that nagging tickle in our throats and the watery eyes that never dry up until the first signs of winter.

Another sign of early spring has to do with finding things we lost after our first snowstorm. Every year we are hopeful the winter’s snow will somehow dissolve the Christmas Tree we threw over our decks after the first of the year. This, of course, never happens. It just becomes something we must dig out of our yards if we have any hope for a green lawn in our backyards. One also does not want to create a condominium complex for every biting insect known or unknown to mankind.

Spring also allows us to find things that were lost during the short cold days of winter. Mailboxes can be found blocks away from where they once stood. Not the whole mailbox just pieces large enough to have you know it was yours. Broken shovels and tools are found embedded into the ground like prehistoric fossils of times gone by. I sometimes wonder if I left these things in the ground some future archeologist would discover them. I wonder if he or she would realize how truly neurotic our society was?

I see my neighbors for the first time since they hibernated in their homes over the winter months. All are a bit larger and always much paler. They say things like, “Where have you been all winter?” or “I bet you can’t wait to mow your loan.” In my mind I tell them that I have been hiding in my house all winter long trying to forget that soon I am going to have to mow my lawn.

Potholes and frost heaves are another treat this time of year. This is a favorite time of year for people who love roller coasters and water park rides. These are made remarkably worse because this is also the time of year for the water companies and sewer companies to rip up the old and bring in the new. I can never figure out why the worse streets always have the newest pipes while the new streets are the ones that must be dug up. I guess this is just another one of life’s mysteries never to be figured out.

By far the worse part of this time of year is that people’s attitude changes for the better. Everyone is always in a good mood or smiling just for the purpose of smiling. I tend to distrust these types of people because there is simply not much to smile about this time of year. The mud season engulfs us all, our population balloons, and worst of all the Red Sox begin their quest to tear the hearts out of everyone who is lucky enough to call New England their home.

— Special to the Press Herald

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