The Tragedy and Comedy of Spring

A couple of weeks ago our robin chicks hatched.  I was so excited.  Even though they were not very cute (actually they looked like miniature dragons), it was fun to watch their mama and pops feed them. 

I was also pleasantly surprised that Mama Robin didn’t give me to much grief when I would come outside.  That was until late last week.  Maybe I should have seen it as an omen, but when I came out that morning she was flying around furiously and pooping everywhere.  When I got home that evening I didn’t see any activity, and I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I parked the car in the garage and came back outside to investigate.  One of the adults (which I assume was the mom) was lying eviscerated on the driveway, no doubt falling prey to a wandering cat or dog.  As perhaps a tragically poetic symbol, I could clearly make out her heart lying outside of her body, whole but detached.  For my little friends, my heart was broken.  The other adult was nowhere to be seen, and still is AWOL. 

Still, I had hope.  If a dog can nurse rejected liger cubs, perhaps I would be able to take care of these babies.  Afterall, I did see two humans and a dog out of infancy.  I walked up to the nest and waved my hand over it.  The normal response to this would have been the chicks popping their heads up and opening their beaks as widely as possible.  Nothing.  I was too crestfallen to get the ladder out to make the final confirmation. 

Since that time there has been no activity, and I still haven’t looked.  I don’t know if they have been snatched or remain in the nest.  Soon enough I will take the nest down.  I’m not looking forward to it.

This put me in a foul (no pun intended, of course) mood for a few days.  The circumstances seemed so unfair for these fragile creatures.  Then one morning Lovely Wife, who gets up before I do, summoned me out of bed to share with me the excitement of some other visitors that we had in our yard:

Now, it is not uncommon to see deer in our town, as a river pretty much circles the city and most of the banks and surrounding areas have been reserved for park land.  But considering that we are a couple of miles from the nearest point of the river and completely out of the valley, it certainly came as a surprise.  In addition, they were pretty small and our back yard is surrounded by at least six feet of fencing or dense bushes on all sides.  But, they obviously jumped over to give us our first deer sighting on our property in the five years that we have lived here. 

Lovely wife said that one quickly jumped back over, while the other seemed to struggle.  She opened the gate and tried to chase it out (a little scary if you ask me–even for small guys I am sure these were very powerful animals) before it made the leap over as well.  All in all, I wish I could have seen it.  Somehow, I can’t shake the feeling that these two beautiful whitetails found their way into our yard to lift my spirits.

Now is the winter of my disoncontent

OK, I’ll be honest.  I don’t truly know if the end of my bad feelings is near, however it does seem like I have been having a few more good days recently.  I still haven’t been able to string a bunch of good days together (with the exception of our weekend trip to visit my bio family), but the brighter days do seem to signal that things are on the right track.

Perhaps incongruously for someone with depression, I have always been–and perhaps remain–an optimist.  Which is partly why depression can be so frustrating.  It seems like despite my sunny outlook, reality has a way of rising up and smacking me in the face.

Coincidentally or not, last night and into this morning we had a bit of a snowstorm here.  A few days ago it was a beautiful day, a balmy 70 degrees or so.  But nature has a way of reminding me that I do live in South Dakota after all.  Usually we are done with the snow by the middle to the end of March.  At least we didn’t have it as bad as northern parts of the state that had 9 inches of the white stuff.  I should take a cue from others, however.  Rather than complain, there were pictures on the news of kids that had made snow Easter Bunnies. 

But in my metaphor filled consciousness, what I equate this last blast of snow to is the last bit of depression hanging on to my mind.  While I know that depression will likely stick around long after kids are out of school and we are playing in the back yard in our shirt sleeves, it gives this optimist something of a visualization.  So, as the snow melts today, I am heading out with Lovely Wife, Little Guy and Baby Girl to let spring feelings creep back into my psyche.  

And while I am optimistic that this is the final blast of winter, the realist part of my brain reminds me that it snowed on April 30 a few years ago.

SATURDAY FUN: Music favorites

Although my music tastes usually favor Country, Blues, and Folk, it is quite eclectic.  So on a day where I need a little pick me up, here is a classic by They Might Be Giants: