Spring has sprung — or has it?
As I write this, there are five days until the first day of spring arrives. The calendar, at least, promises a release from the dark, cold days of winter. Yesterday’s temperature peaked above seventy. Today is almost as warm as yesterday, and even though the forecast calls for lower temperatures after today, these two warm days suggest that winter is beginning to lose its grip. Soon the forest will awaken and exchange its drab gray-brown winter pajamas for fresh, green summer work clothes. In her new garb, she will begin again to cleanse the air, produce oxygen for all to breathe; and, spreading forth leafy arms, she will embrace birds, squirrels, and other forest denizens looking for safety from prowling predators.
A few weeks ago, my geese began to sense the spring’s advent. Either that or they had been peeking in the window to see my calendar. During the coldest spell of the winter, a nest suddenly appeared in the middle of the goose coop.
I had not even looked at the calendar to see when spring was supposed to arrive-my only information having come from a certain famous groundhog who lives not too far from here-but the geese knew a change in seasons was just around the corner and family preparations must be begun. Since then, the geese have greeted me with threatening hisses every time I come to fill the feed bucket and clean their coop. The gander {Gandalf) no longer tolerates my presence, but attempts to bite me whenever I forget to watch him, thus facilitating his launch of a sneak attack. So, without the slightest glance at the calendar, I can tell by the red marks on my legs and posterior: spring is near.
Other signs abound: grass is greening, robins are awing, flies are flitting about, the dogs are barking to go outside to dig holes in the lawn. Spring looms.
Spring will bring changes in wardrobes, too. Soon, I will dig out my sandals, ankle socks and shorts. Gloves, hats and coats will disappear. All the dogs will don new summer apparel as will be testified to by the abundance of hair that they deposit in every corner of the house. Even the drake in my flock of ducks will soon exchange his drab brown head feathers for a more attractive iridescent green style, intending, no doubt, to charm the lady ducks.
All these changes and many, many more occur as the weather warms and days lengthen. “Mother Nature,” guardian of land, sea, and air, will faithfully oversee nature’s spring cleaning and the changes that we are all looking forward to; but, unfortunately, our nation’s guardians will ignore changes our nation cries for as desperately as a starving baby cries for its mother’s milk.
We need harmony between opposing groups throughout the land. In all spheres: race, religion, politics, education, industry, etc., we need to work together for the good of our nation.
For example, a document arrived in our mail this morning requesting a donation in support of a group that advocates term limits for Congress- twelve years for both house and senate members.
This is one issue in which I believe wholeheartedly, not just for Congress but also for higher echelon members of the several intelligence agencies in our government. I thought, as I poured over the donation request, “Oh, sure, fat chance.” The literature I received indicated ‘ that over 80 percent of the citizens of our country favor congressional term limits. I do not know how accurate this percentage is, but most people I talk to favor term limits. One would think that something with such wide spread favorability would become law, but it has not. The reason term limits has not been enacted (and probably never will) is that our government is filled with people who are more concerned with their own nest feathering than with what is best for our country.
President Trump seeks to clean out the self-serving rats’ nest that is in Washington. In everything that is good.for o”ur country, he should have our support. How beautiful the spring if Congress could work together and if Trump gives the Deep State a spring cleaning!
DeWitt Clinton is a resident of Dunbar.