Whatever my plans, my best intentions, my responsibilities were for this weekend; they’ve all gone right out the window because the red-winged blackbirds are singing.
This means only one thing…
I worked well into the night last night to free up time today. I swear that I will come home and work all day Sunday, and vacuum my house, and do the dishes, and my laundry, and maybe take a shower and water the plants, and pay the bills, and respond to emails, and write the piece that’s due in 3 days.
I will do these things, but there is no way that I can focus while those conk-la-rees! are all around – coming out of the trees, the willows, the tamarisk.
The siren’s call beckons me to come west. It’s not enough to listen to them here at my house. I have to be there.
My excuse is that the dogs need some exercise. And that there is no place here that they can get enough running around and therefore they need the wide-open spaces, the miles of slickrock, the immense blue sky, the river, the silence.
Can’t possibly get their yaya’s out any other place.
And, obviously, they need to stay at The Lodge, take a hot tub under the stars, and eat food from the convenience store next door because there are no other eating establishments open at this time of year.
Yay gas station hot dogs!
And they will sit outside in the morning, with the sun shining on their faces, listening to birds, chatting with the neighbors, drinking coffee, maybe even getting in a little writing.
My dog has learned (and is teaching his buddy) that “we’re going to U-Tah!” means joy all around.
It means freedom and fresh air and sunshine and maybe even rain. It means lizards and unrecognizable rodents and long stretches of uninterrupted space in which to leap and bound and laze in the warmth of the sun on rock.
Maybe there will be swimming – who cares if it’s cold.
Maybe there will be soft-serve ice cream.
Definitely, there will be peace and calm and joy.
And, there will be the song of the birds of spring; the red-winged blackbirds.