In the Field of Dreams, James Earl Jones reminds of those recurrent seasons that help us mark the passage of time. For him it was baseball season. For many, it’s Christmas, or hunting season, or even Spring. Something that just shows up year after year – the rhythm of life. Then again, for some of us, it’s something else – something forgotten that makes its presence known whether we want to acknowledge it or not:
And so here it is once again. And rather than singing oldies like "Those April Showers, May come your way…" we hear the dark refrains of Eliot,
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain…
and count the days. As I say every year, "Even when there’s no cure for an illness, it’s helpful for the afflicted to know what’s wrong – why they’re having trouble thinking." It’s another kind of "losing your mind…"
spring time allergies
it gets me sometimes too. have to have my bricanyl turbuhaler and elcom cream ready just incase it gets really bad :p
Our little cul de sac is covered in pink and white cherry blossoms right now. The sky is blue. The PollenCast is moderate today; tomorrow it will be severe. All love requires a little sacrifice; I love deciduous trees in every season— pollen and all.
In California, under influence of a drought and unusually warm winter weather, we had a killer of an early pollen season in January and February. Even people who don’t have pollen allergies were affected.
Dust probably didn’t help either.