The Ants of Spring are beginning their annual Crawl up my Spine

The Ants of Spring crawling up my spine.

The ants of spring are beginning their annual crawl up my spine, and the itch of their tentacles touch is spreading rapidly to all the other parts of my body and mind too.

It happens like clockwork every single spring as soon as the warming sun begins to accompany daytime temperatures above freezing to begin the snow melt, and the spring winds begin their rattling of bare tree branches beginning to swell with the onset of the saps that will soon bring them to bursting life again.

The melting snows always expose the projects not quite completed the previous year, and begin to remind you of the host of others that have been scheduled for the current one.

The piles of stuff you’ve accumulated and carefully stacked inside over the winter begins to take on a looming presence in your face, because you know that it’s all destined to be taken elsewhere and used for preplanned purposes. But it’s not quite the right time yet to be able to do that so their continued presence looms ever larger, feeding more and more logs to the fires of spring impatience already bursting to escape its confinement inside you.

Soon…it’ll be soon, you keep telling yourself as you monitor the daily changes in how the snow pack has settled and how the melt itself is progressing. Soon, you tell yourself, the ice covering will break up and those melt waters will begin to trickle and eventually rush their flows into exposed creeks and rivers again. Soon, you say to yourself, the bush trails will be clear of their burdens of white and you’ll be able to walk and travel them again. Soon…soon.

And all the while the ants of spring are beginning their annual crawl up my spine, making me shiver with anticipation and tremble with eagerness to just get out there and do it all over again through one more season of sunshine and rain before the snows come again.