Sense of Spring
Maybe its because of my dependence now on reading glasses, that the other senses
are compensating and are more heightened. Or that the environment where I live stimulates and triggers memories, ideas and emotions. Listening to someone sharpen
knives manually, brought flashbacks of Sunday lamb roast, my father preparing the
meat for his large brood. The smell of diesel fuel, always brings me back to hot, noisy
bus stations in India and Thailand. When a friend flew low across our property repeatedly the other day, my early teaching years in a rural area called the Mallee were
vivid again. Hot blazing sun, acres of wheat fields and the rumbling hum of dust croppers breaking the remote silence. The smell of manure spread across a vegetable garden is such a reminder that Spring is here. The sound of the whip-o-will at night and
the woodpecker in the morning. We certainly don’t need an alarm clock! I could do
without the sinister touch of wood ticks on my neck or mosquitos buzzing in my ear.
And the ominous smell of smoke in the air in this very dry region. But Spring brings
the good, the bad and the ugly.
