Happy Spring!

One Easter several years ago, my family had gathered at my parents’ house to spend the holiday together, hunting for colored eggs and eating yummy home-cooked desserts.  My niece, who was around five at the time, had a sheet of Easter-themed stickers (obviously meant to be used in the classroom), and she was selflessly giving one to each member of the family.

We proudly wore our gifts on our hands or shirts or foreheads, as the case may be.  After a few minutes, people started looking more closely at the messages.  Mine said, “Great job!”  My dad’s exclaimed, “Way to go!”  My brother wore the witty, “Egg-cellent!”  His wife’s said, “Hooray!”  But my cousin’s sticker, next to a picture of beautiful flowers, stated, “Happy Spring!”

While still a pleasant greeting, this one didn’t seem to be quite in line with the rest of the sentiments, and a discussion ensued about the need for such a sticker in an educator’s arsenal.  We laughed about the teacher’s hand gliding over all of the choices, hovering, hesitating.  Then, finally seeing the “Happy Spring” one, she breathes a sigh of relief as she finds the one sticker she can put on the mediocre work in front of her.

We decided there was a market for this type of product and suggestions were made for other useful sayings to put on stickers:  “You turned it in!”  “I can read this!”  “Not so bad!”  “I like your shirt!”

Since then, the term “Happy Spring” has become a euphemism in my family for “You’re an idiot” and we enjoy chuckling over it privately.

I’d like to stop my anecdote here.  In truth, I do have a point.  There is a reason why I wanted to share this story on this day.  It’s just not worth getting into on my little blog.  Let’s just say, that I would like to give a BIG “Happy Spring” to the state of Texas right now.  Due to their ignorance and idiocy, they are causing a trickle-down effect of many more “Happy Springs” to come.   And it’s very  disappointing.

4 months old

                                                  all legs

                                                  and floppy ears

                                                  soft yellow

                                                  and eyes that know

                                                  you frolic like a little deer

                                                  toss your lanky limbs in the air

                                                  bow & bounce

                                                  tumble & roll

                                                  grunt & sigh

                                                  there is a smile in your gait

                                                  as you trot away from me

                                                  with my sneaker

                                                  when you sleep you stretch

                                                  the jingle of your collar

                                                  is my gentle alarm clock

                                                  and I wake

                                                  to your inquisitive face

                                                  head tilted sideways

                                                  wondering how much

                                                  the world has shrunk today

Feeling a Little Batty

This weekend, for the first time in years, I went downtown and watched the bats emerge from the Congress Avenue bridge and swoop into the night in search of dinner.  When I stood down on the lawn, looking up at their silhouettes flitting this way and that against the dusky sky, I felt a sense of relief.  Without realizing it, I had been a little apprehensive about going, worrying that maybe the phenomenon had changed, that the additions of high-rise condos and the ruthlessness of time had somehow ruined it. 

But no.  The bats, and their audience, were just as I remembered them.   Spectators sat beneath the bridge on the grass on blankets they had brought.  Those on the bridge leaned over and pointed and gaped.  Party boats went by below, their guides commenting on the smell of guano and making jokes about how “this is the only bridge where it rains underneath” while the tourists squealed on cue.   There was a man trying to make a buck selling glo-sticks, a couple making out inappropriately and at least one crying child.  All was as it should be.

And the bats—the bats did their majestic dance down the river, rising and falling in one living, breathing cloud, breaking apart briefly and then coming back together, heading east as the sun set behind them.

Although the Congress Avenue bridge is famous for the number of bats that live beneath it, that is not the only place you can find them in Austin.  They make their home in several areas of the city and our neighborhood is one of them.  If we are outside at dusk, we can usually see at least one or two darting around in the sky above us.

So tonight, around 8:45PM, my husband asked me to come out to the front yard because there were a couple of bats flying around and he wanted to prove to me something he’s been telling me for years:  that if you throw a tennis ball up in the air near bats, they will dive bomb it.  It’s not that I didn’t believe him, I just couldn’t picture it.  So we headed out into the street armed with two of our puppy’s tennis balls.

And he was right!  Whenever we tossed the ball high into the air, at least one of the bats would swoop toward it and then veer away again.  They never actually touched the ball, but they came very close to it, as well as to us.  Once the bat even continued to dive bomb the ball after it had bounced and flew right under Mark’s arm as he was catching it.  It was really amazing to watch.

After a few minutes, though, we stopped.  I was worried that maybe we were being mean to the bats and Mark was worried when he saw one of the bats circling above my head for some reason, so we ended the game and went inside.  But I have to admit that it was pretty cool.  If you have bats in your neighborhood, and a tennis ball, and access to a rabies vaccination just in case, I suggest you try it.