Ah, Spring in the Northwest

The crabapple is blooming, the lilacs are about to, the mallards are paired off, and everywhere birds are gathering nesting materials: crows, wrens, and robins alike. This morning I spotted a little brown wren in the big apple tree, and it turns out she's nesting in the bird house that Hal re-located into the side yard after the willow was taken out. I'm glad to see it's still an acceptable home.

And as I sat over my tea and shirred eggs just now, I heard that distinctive Northwest herald of bird whoopie season: the abrupt clatter of a bitsy air-compressor going off on the roof. The flicker is back, showing off the superior hardness and puissance of his...beak...by using it to batter out a rapid mating tattoo on the metal flashing of our chimney. It's always startling the first time each spring because the sound is so absolutely mechanical as to be inexplicable on the roof, and it takes me a moment to remember what the hell that noise is. But once I figure it out, I find it cheering. The season of renewal is upon us.

I'm less thrilled by the millions of minuscule baby spiders staking out their individual territories all over the house. I'm sure this is phylumist of me.