For many of my fellow allergy sufferers, spring is the worst time of the year. After the long cold winter here in the northeast, we have a positive cornucopia of allergens to deal with, now that all of the March ones that didn’t pop when they should have are coming out to join the April ones in droves. I have a lovely cough that can stop a conversation at ten paces as people look for the diseased one. They look doubtful when I tell them I’m not contagious.
Many of my writer friends are making use of the inspiration of blue skies and days when the high flirts with 70. We all breathe a sigh of relief when the weather people tell us the night time low will be above freezing. Spring poems are coming into our space on Church St. for review and analysis, but today has stopped some short.
Being in the home city of Ben and Jerry’s, we are enjoying the carnival atmosphere of free cone day. Some springs, it has not been smiled on by the weather gods, but they played nice today. Low 60s, blue sky with puffy white clouds, long lines snake down the street. They started at noon, and it is nearly 3:30 as I write, and the line has not shrunk all day. As people get their ice cream, new people join the queue, laughing and chattering away. A poor keyboardist has been playing practically non stop since 11:30. It’s a nice background, but he’s not getting the attention he deserves.
I wonder if I will go join the throng and scare the bejeezus out of them with my foghorn cough. Maybe they’ll move me up the line faster to get rid of me!