As nice as the weather is here in Central Ohio today, I am stuck in the house. Landscapers are working in every corner of the property—pulling weeds in the front, laying down weed blocker and planting bushes in the back, spreading mulch in the beds just outside my office window, cutting the grass all around. I let the dog out for a little exercise but he wouldn't play because worker guys were taking a lunch break on the front porch, and he was more interested in their discarded orange peel than in the stick I was throwing.
I'd like to take the dog to the park because we could both use a good walk, and because it would be nice to escape the constant sound of buzzing tools at every door and window, or so it seems. But the big mulch truck is blocking the driveway. So, here I sit with a restless dog and unpleasant noise and a lovely day going to waste.
I'm typesetting indoors while a pleasant atmosphere has formed outdoors, and I want to bust out—this is what I remember the last few weeks of school feeling like when I was a kid. You would be forced to sit on a hard chair attached to a hard desk under florescent lights with someone from a Peanuts cartoon (one of the adults) trombone-muting her way through a class period, and you're watching the clock and looking out the window and counting the hours or minutes until you could hit the ground running.
That biting-at-the-bit urge to break loose didn't end in grade school. I felt this way in college, too, when I was a student in Chicago. Chicago can give you some miserable weather days, but when it breaks out the sunshine in May, it's giving you something really special. On those days, you can't help but dart out the door of the Drudgery Building and walk to the lake shore or sit on a bench beside the water tower or eat bagels on Rush Street.
Papers due? Finals to study for? I have no idea what you're talking about. It's spring time and glorious, and I must be out amongst the birds and the breezes. This is why I ended my college days on academic probation.
Since I can't have what I want today, I'll relish the experience I had yesterday. Big Puppy and I had a lovely walk in pleasant weather. On our route, we take a trip or two around a pond with fountains, and then we climb a hill to the town pool. We wind down the hill on a curvy road, cross a bridge that spans a tiny creek (it actually babbles), and follow a path back to the parking lot. It was just as we entered the cluster of trees beside the bridge that I heard this bird having a songfest above my head. I think her song was one of agitation because my dog and I were too close to her nest, but I was still amazed at her range of tunes—or curses.
As soon as I figure out how to embed the mp4 file my phone recorded of this happy/angry bird, I'll post it here. In the meantime, forget about whatever it is you're supposed to be doing, and listen to this instead: