The months tumbled on like the clothes in my washing machine, and before I knew it, the biting winter cold gave way to a glorious autumn. Spring followed, and, finally, a summer that feels like it might melt my face off has set in. Yet, this is my love note to spring. The colors of autumn and spring, their scents, and the emotions they evoked deserve long essays of their own. In autumn, I was mostly grateful I could feel my fingers after the brutal winter. Of course, there were the magical orange hues of autumn! And, ah, the Jacarandas in spring! The landscape erupted in color as purple Jacaranda flowers bloomed everywhere. Whenever I passed by a tree, it felt like I was walking on my very own carpet of purple.
How could I forget the fluffy yellow flowers of the Golden Wattle? Inhaling the sweet, sticky scent of these flowers as I walked past them every day was a treat in itself.
Despite the watery eyes and the ‘achoos’ that punctuated my day, sometimes triggered by the mere sight of the flowers and their pollen, I loved all that the season offered. For one, I was glad that the sun was no longer setting at 4:45 pm anymore. By November, the sun began setting between seven and eight. I got more time to walk around the neighbourhood and exercise my lungs and legs. Each day, I picked a new route and enjoyed going through paved footpaths lined on each side by trees and shrubs, each trying to outdo the other in color and fragrance.
Sure, there were times I walked into long hanging branches and spider webs. But it was alright. After all, I was being paid handsomely by the sight of flowers and the smells that spring offered. And every time I walked into a web, the reaction was the same. A frantic brushing of the face and arms and shaking of the body, followed by a throaty ‘ARGH’. Imagine my horror when someone I met later at an event recognized me from my walks! I hid at home for a week.
The funniest incident happened on a fairly hot day. I was walking to a shop down the street. Before leaving the house, I grabbed the umbrella by the door, one that I hadn’t used since the rains stopped. The shade the umbrella provided was a relief. I was pretty smug about it until I noticed a small spider hanging by a web from the edge of my umbrella. The spider was probably harmless, and yet I could focus on nothing else. I shook the umbrella, moved it closer to the trees and bushes, but the spider hung on. It occurred to me much later that I probably looked like a crazy person as I swayed a large beige umbrella erratically, first to the left, then to the right, and back again. The yelps that followed might not have helped either.
That evening, I switched my walking route to avoid anyone who might have seen me in the morning. It was the only time I wished for a face mask. The spider returned home with me, where I used a twig to get it off the umbrella, and watched it reluctantly move to a vine. Did the spider love my umbrella and, more importantly, living inside my house?
In between all this, two of God’s creations became synonymous with spring for me—honorable mentions, you could say: magpies and bees. The magpies appeared as winter ended. I didn’t think much of them until I saw a boy riding a bicycle with spikes on his helmet, which turned out to be for deterring magpie attacks. Social media, the people at my lunch table, and even the local news dished out tips – from befriending the bird with morsels of meat to dark warnings of not turning your back! Now that sparked a new fear.
To protect myself, I carried my trusted umbrella, which, due to its size, doubled as a walking stick on steep hills. This fear inspired new antics: once, I crossed a busy road twice to avoid a magpie minding its own business by the roadside. That day, I realized how Hershey, my sister’s dog, must feel when swooped by mynas.
The bees are second in my list of honorable mentions. Well, I did expect the bees since it was spring, but the constant buzzing around my ears when I stepped out turned me into a spectacle. It’s almost like I had my own portable fan as my hands worked overtime to swat the bees away from my ears. An idea struck me – I could wear earphones! They worked superbly until the day I stepped to the side of a walkway to avoid the bees fussing around a branch. My feet came in contact with small pine cones strewn across the floor (if my guess is right, they are pine needles from Sheoak trees). I slipped and shrieked louder than I intended to, thanks to the podcast playing in my ears. Sigh, I had done it again.
And so, that’s why I’m staying indoors this summer – at home with the air conditioning on, perfecting the art of folding an origami kangaroo. I am optimistic about it. One day I might create one that actually resembles a kangaroo. But trust me when I say, I’ve had enough of the delights of nature.
