I do love spring–my trees come back to life, the oaks gleam with yellow-gold new leaves, and I stand outside and recite “Nothing gold can stay,” the poem by Robert Frost. That tradition began when I was in high school. Every year Mrs. Williams would lead us out to a second story balcony beneath a sprawling live oak, where she’d recite the poem and we’d marvel that Nature’s first green really is gold.
Let me see if I can remember the poem:
Nature’s first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower, but only so an hour.
So leaf subsides to leaf . . . so Eden sank to grief.
So dawn goes down to day, nothing gold can stay.
I do love that poem . . . and every year I recite it, I realize more and more how fleeting life is, and how we really do have to seize the moments God has given us.
That is the marvelous part of Spring. But now that I live in a Florida forest, I’ve become well-acquainted with two bugs–one I have no problem with, and the other I tolerated . . . until last night.
The first bug is a tiny green worm that seems to dangle magically in mid air. They appear in early March, and they swing on invisible gossamer threads in mid-air. People walk into them unexpectedly, and often I see my airbnb guests spitting out green worms—they are actually oak leafrollers, and they come from the trees, descending to mate and cocoon and turn into tiny white moths that return to the oaks to wait for another spring. They are so small they could fit on your thumbnail.
The second bug is the Tussock moth caterpillar, which I just identified a few moments ago. They also appear in March, and they cover our trashcans. I don’t know where they come from, but they seem compelled to climb high and cocoon under the eaves of our house and in any available nook or cranny. I’ve seen the cocoons beneath benches, branches, even broad leaves. But here’s the thing–these fuzzy caterpillars sting.
My grandkids know not to touch a fuzzy caterpillar, and for six years I’ve managed to maneuver around them. But yesterday I was working outside when one of the tussocks dropped onto my neck. I pulled it off as quick as a wink, but once I saw what it was, my skin began to tingle. I told myself it was psychosomatic and not to worry. But last night, as I tried to sleep, the entire back of my neck was flaming red and itching and I barely got a wink of shut eye. That rascally caterpillar got me . . . and my skin is still itching as I type.
So my peaceful coexistence with the Tussocks is over. A couple of months ago I painted the ceiling of our front porch, and the tussocks have been trying to cocoon up there, so I keep getting the broom and knocking them down. There are a zillion trees; why do they want to cocoon on my porch and my trashcans? It’s gotten so we can’t even lift the lid without risking life and limb.
I feel sorry for my March airbnb guests. They must think we have alien creatures year round. Fortunately, the caterpillars disappear at the end of March, though their cocoons seem to stay around until someone pulls them off. We have zillions of them under the eaves.
When I was a kid, my family went to Vero Beach. I don’t remember much about the trip, but I do remember that the place had been overrun by crabs. Literally. They were running around on the sidewalks, on the beach, and someone with us even found one under the hood of their car. As a kid, I was convinced those crabs were trying to scare us away. I sure don’t remember swimming!
So yes–Springtime in Florida is wonderful–highs in the 70s, lows in the 60’s, bright and breezy, but if you come to my house, carry an umbrella. If it’s March, it’s raining bugs.
What’s the best thing about Spring where you live? What’s the worst bit?
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The best thing about spring where I live (Houston, TX) is the lush green with pops of color after winter’s dull brown. The worst thing is the pollen.
Oh, yes, the pollen! It’s been a few weeks, but not long ago my nose was a virtual faucet. 🙁
The best things about spring in Austin, Texas, are the bluebonnets covering roadsides and fields and the return of the bats to keep mosquitoes under control. The worst thing is the pollen. I’ve been trying not to claw my itching eyes out of their sockets for about three weeks. Thankfully, I’m beginning to feel some relief.
I feel your discomfort! One of my eyes swelled up badly a few weeks ago–I practically had to sit on my hands to keep from rubbing the itch away. I hope you soon get some April showers to wash all that rain away!
The best thing in Colorado is seeing bulbs come up and bloom. The worst thing is planning an event, since the weather is so nice and find the day of the event we have snow.
I get it! I remember going to teach at a conference in Colorado in May. I got off the plane in capris and sandals, and it started to snow! I was not prepared for that weather shift.
I hate bugs too. We have trouble with red wasps and carpenter bees under the carport. In the winter I have trouble with lady bugs so it’s bad either way. The flowers I like but the heat here in Mississippi I don’t like. I wish I lived where there were No bugs or spiders. Lol
I was once telling Randy Alcorn that I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of roaches on the New Earth, but he said I’d have a different feeling toward them in the future. I sure hope so!
Not sure about that from Randy, Angie. I’ll take a “we’ll see” approach on that one! LOL Great post but YUCK on those bugs. Hope you’re doing better, friend. Ouch!
They are going away . . . thank the Lord. But now they are up under my eaves, so I still have to take them down . . . eventually. Ugh.
The best thing about Spring is the earth awakening here in Saskatchewan. The snow melts, grass begins to green and trees begin to bud. The worst thing is the unpredictable weather as winter resists its hold and fights back with snow and blizzards. Thankfully we don’t have too many bugs in Spring!
Sounds glorious, Pam!