Fly Paper

Spring is a time of renewal, we see it all around us, it seems. I see the white beauty of our cherry blossoms, and blue cabbage moths flit about deliriously in the sun today. The humming birds whir by our feeders in their metallic rush. Yesterday, two majestic Bald Eagles flew over our backyard, low enough in their giddy excitement looking for a proper nesting place, that I could see their powerful yellow golden beaks and imposing white heads. I had heard their alluring high pitched call and knew they were near. It is always such a thrill to see these impressive birds close by. Our little seedlings in our green house are thriving, the sunflowers and the Morning Glory. We have new Blueberry bushes ready to go in the ground. A playful wind throws loose cherry petals around like confetti. Spring is here, and it feels wonderful. Yet, it also reminds me of vulnerability, perhaps because of a recent setback with a long time friend. What is new, and fresh is also vulnerable. Fly paper came to mind. Not a very pleasant image , I know, but perhaps the image came to me in a desire to protect some bruised feelings recently. Sometimes it is hard to tell who put the fly paper up that gets us stuck, we ourselves, or the so-called offending party? In my case, at least this time, I think I set the sticky trap myself. And for sure, there have been many times I ran into the sticky mess of life's fly paper on account of some ill-intentioned person or persons. This time, I sure did a number on myself. The thing about fly paper is, that if you realize what you are up against and move fast and light, you can get free. But, as we all know too well, the fly struggles, and in the process, gets stuck too hard to be able to pull itself free. In my case, I was able to save face, and pull free, but the sticky mess will follow me around on everything else I touch, so to speak, for some time to come. Sometimes, in spite of the best of efforts and intention, we end up with some egg on our face. I wrote a poem about it, "Le Sentinel" today, and that gave me some relief and perspective. It is funny, I thought to myself, I always felt that with age would come wisdom, but sometimes with age the only thing that comes is a sudden irresistible desire to make a fool of ourselves,perhaps in a longing to perpetuate the spring in our lives and postpone the inevitable slip into its late summer and autumn. There is no fool like an old fool, I reminded myself, and I was certain many a person had felt the same way I feel today, for one reason or another. So the melancholy subsided, and the resolve to feel renewed with spring returned with a determination that included a sense of humour at all too familiar human weaknesses and faults.