I took the first walk of the season last night out on the back road. After supper. The smell of the hamburgers and caramelized onions I’d made clung to me as I clipped along. But the air was fresh and the birds, especially the robins, twittered alongside me and it was delightful.
Of course very little is green yet. But there are other things to see like the Poof! of a fluffy white rabbit tail that disappeared behind some low brush and leaves as I approached. Shy little guy. Not so the chickadee. Nope. She bebopped down from a birch tree branch and landed directly across from me on the other side of the road. “Chick-a-dee-dee-dee”, I said, so happy to see her. Her little black cap was on straight and I’ll betcha she was thinking about finding a fella and setting up house.
Just over the rise I was greeted by a chocolate lab and his buddy yard guarding. Rowf! Rowf!! Deep throated critters and bound by an invisible fence that I’m sure made them feel safe from this person who dared set foot on their road. I cooed at them glad for that the invisible fence. I’m not afraid of dogs at all, especially labs, the big softies. I’m more afraid they’ll follow me than anything else. That’s happened. Maybe I shouldn’t coo so much and call them “baby” and “buddy” and say things like, “You’re a big tough teddy bear, aren’t you?” Hmm.
Over the rise, around the corner and up another incline. The newest home on this quiet road has huge boulders guarding the driveway that goes a ways back into the property. In addition there are some plantings, a rock wall and solar lights to guide the way. There are no street lights on this back road. All the wiring is underground. Nothing to obscure the skyline. I love it but I don’t walk the road after dark. Of course not.
Then, just when I thought there was nothing else to experience, I saw them. Four young lads careening down the asphalt on skateboards. Heard them, too, chatting and scooting. They turned into a driveway long before I got to them, but I wanted to tell them how much fun that skateboarding seemed. Zipping along, shirt flying, cool evening air. Young fun.
Almost out to the main road now. I approached the house on the corner, the one with the huge pine trees lining the property, and two robins greeting me. One had landed on a low branch; the other swooped in a few seconds later. They have an amazing cheep, cheep. Very certain, robins are. They know what they’re about and it reminded me of a song my dad sang to us when we were little. So for the rest of the way home I did the best I could with it.
When the red, red robin comes bob, bob, bobbin’ along, along
There’ll be no more sobbin’ when he starts throbbin’ his old sweet song
Get up, get up, you sleepy head
C’mon on, c’mon, get outta bed . . .
I miss my dad bellowing out the lyrics to old songs and cheering us all up.
The song ends . . . Live, love, laugh and be happy.
And how could it be any other way on a walk where spring wraps herself around me like a comfortable old sweater, shows me the resurrecting earth, and puts a song in my heart?