2 a.m. musings
Yes, I'm up at 2 a.m. I'm usually up at this time of night; rare are the evenings I go to bed earlier than this.
Tonight (this morning) though, I had a bit of an experience. Not earthshattering or anything, but just some reflections and observations on this particular 2 a.m.
Had to take Lacey out for a last constitutional before putting her to bed in her crate. The day had been overcast and warm; warm enough to make me want to put on the air conditioner. But as I stepped outside, the air was pleasantly cool. It was also damp, not really humid, just a touch of dampness, and smelled like rain that had never fallen. The sky was clear, and moonless and of the houses on our street, only two had the porchlights still on; ours was one of them.
There were dogs barking off in the distance, and the sound of the occasional car passing on the main road two blocks away. But I noticed another sound that had been gone for weeks, months now. Chirping in the background, but very much in evidence, were the crickets, singing their soothing night song. I'd noticed them the other day, but they weren't as strong or as loud, then.
Behind where I stood, letting Lacey have almost full range of the front yard, were the most spring flowers we'd had in front of the house since we'd moved in. The "snowdrops" - I have no real idea of what to call them - were numerous, and for the first time I could recall, there were double, triple, sometimes even quadruple blossoms hanging from the edge of their stems. And daffodils - not just one or two as in years gone by, but a full five raised their ruffled heads. Not many compared to the dozens our neighbors had earlier in the month, but for us, a bounty.
As I looked into the sky to see what constellations I might make out, I noticed something darker than night slashing across my view. At first, I was puzzled, but on further inspection I realized it was a mistletoe-laden branch from the oak across the street. The tree was full of the stuff, as is the one by our driveway, and this year, more of the clumps have fallen, and the birds have eaten - or tried to eat - more of the berries. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad considering that mistletoe is a parasite.
But as I brought my focus closer, I realized that our maple tree, the one standing beside our mailbox at the very front edge of the yard, also had something in its branches. I wasn't sure what it was; it was light-colored, and might have been leftover leaves for all I knew. Curious, I walked over to where some of the branches came closer to the ground - and I smiled in recognition and wonder.
The maple's seeds, complete with single, filmy helicopter wings, had sprouted and were hanging wing-first from the branches.
That's when it really hit me - spring had come in full force to South Carolina.