Spring and the Zags

A flicker squawks loudly as he sits on the ridge of my home searching for a mate. I open my bedroom door looking for the focus of the screeching and see the male standing proudly beside the vent to my furnace. A loud tap, tap tap, tap, resonates throughout the neighborhood as the flicker pounds with his beak on my furnace exhaust pipe hoping to draw the attention of a female bird within the range of his sound.

Annoyed and a bit frustrated at the bird's desire to dent my pipe, I yell at the flicker to shoosh with a purposeful "shhhhh" with no result. The bird looks at me, looks back at the pipe and continues to jackhammer the exhaust with his head. I pick up a cushion from my deck-chair and toss it in the direction of the bird. Bored with my frustration, and humored as the cushion lands 10 feet over his head, the flicker flies to the neighbor's roof and continues his mating ritual. Spring is here.

Flowers are blooming, squirrels are friskily playing on the ponderosa pines in my backyard and the morning is full of birds singing to welcome the day. During my wife and I's habitual Sunday morning walk through our neighborhood, we see tom turkeys with splayed-out tail feathers attempting to impress female suitors, tomcats stalking lady-friends and female deer with extended bellies soon to give birth to baby fawns.

Returning home I notice a neglected yard and garden anxiously waiting to be prepared for spring. Matted grass lies dormant from frosty winter nights, leaves cover herb, strawberry and asparagus beds and apple trees offer deformed branches waiting to be pruned prior to budding potential fruit. Spring chives are ready to top my baked potato and onions are growing where I planted them last fall.

I love this time of year. Potential is everywhere. I plan to potentially rebuild half of my raised garden beds, to build an English flower garden in front of my vegetable garden picket fence and to double the size of my garden pond. Potentially, I may collect rocks from the Coeur d'Alene River (with a permit of course) to border my garden beds and I plan to remove my back deck and replace it with a patio and outdoor kitchen.

Speaking of potential, this summer I plan to kayak a few times a week, take a bike ride a few times a week, hike a few times a week, golf four times a week, fish twice a week, finish my novel, spend time with my granddaughters, kiss my wife and relax.

Spring is a funny thing; it inspires, rejuvenates, energizes and motivates. Warmer weather, flower blooms, frisky, playful animals and the exodus from winter's frozen, solemn death creates an energy that makes one feel indestructible.

Understanding that one cannot possibly do everything that one wants, even when spring tells one that they should, I grab an iced tea, recline in my easy chair and cover myself in my favorite blanket. I accept the fact that spring has just sprung and that Gonzaga only plays for the "Sweet 16," once a year. The yard work can wait.

Planting before Mother's Day is a fool's task. Uncovering the thatch covering winter vegetable beds is high-risk this time of year as frost can come and go anytime. I convince myself to be patient, wait for a few more weeks, to relax and watch the Zags win the NCAA Championship.

Many say that one should not plant vegetables outside until the snow is melted from Signal Mountain. I say, don't plant until the Zags are eliminated from the NCAA Championship. Some years this happens the third week of March - too early to plant. This year, it should be April 6 - the perfect time to start lettuce, carrots and radishes.

Send comments or other suggestions to William Rutherford at [email protected] or visit pensiveparenting.com.