Freaky Spring

Perhaps you saw the movie Freaky Friday, either the 1976 version with Jodie Foster and Barbara Harris or the remake with Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan. Both versions were a lot of fun and well worth a peak, if you haven’t seen them.

Don’t worry, my blog hasn’t become a place for Disney to advertise its movies; the entertainment giant doesn’t need any help. I’m bringing up the movies because they both revolved around a plot where everything gets turned upside-down and all-around, just like what is going on in my little corner of the Concord River.

Remember my blog post regarding the nest of ducks eggs that kept appearing, disappearing, appearing, and then disappearing? What? You haven’t read it. Damn. Okay, here’s the link. Go read it and come back when you’re done.

Ready? Good. Now let me see, where was I? Oh yes, a very freaky spring. Observe…

A Mallard hen deposited one lone egg under my Hosta. She dug out a crevice and nestled the egg within it, then walked away. Something, possibly a Bluejay, pecked a hole in the egg and the ants took over. I blessed the egg and gave it to the river. As I walked back to my life I wondered why a hen would lay just one egg and why wasn’t she incubating said egg?

I didn’t get very far in my pondering, or walk, when I spied…


Seriously, was this hen auditioning for a job as the Easter Bunny? And, what creature is opening the eggs so the ants can feast on the undeveloped chicks?

A second blessing and this egg joined its brother/sister in the river. I returned to my gardening duties when in my Bearded Iris bed I spied…

Do you see it? Down in the right corner.

…You guessed it, a third egg.


The ants didn’t even wait for something to peck an opening in this shell. They covered the egg and somehow figured out how to get in on their own. Another blessing was cast and the egg joined its siblings.

Three lone eggs. Add them to the ones I found, lost, and found again under my Solomon’s Seal plants and I was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with my property when my neighbor rescued my derailed train of thought. He entered my yard, a napkin in his hand in which he cradled a duck egg. Seems his five-year-old son found it under some plants in their garden. “Look, Daddy, an egg!”

Blessing time again!

Please, someone, explain what is going on with the Mallard hens. I realize it is a bit early to see chicks trailing behind their mama, something that doesn’t usually happen until the second or third week of June.

June 10, 2019.

However, at this rate the hen or hens who are laying eggs willy-nilly are only going to have a score of ants following behind; no chicks.

If the Mallard egg situation wasn’t enough to make me want to scream at the freakiness of Spring 2021, let me address the weather! When did spring mean temperatures in the nineties?

According to data collected by weather stations throughout each state during the years 1971 to 2000, this is what the spread of temperatures should look like.

This a breakdown of the temps from the month of May 2021 for my little corner of the Concord River.

Windy, dry, humid, and HOT. Look at these numbers!

Okay, maybe it hasn’t been as hot as some places in the world but when I’m expecting mild temps and I find myself sweating buckets, I reserve the right to complain. 😡

While you’re studying the above data table (There will be a test at the end of this post.) check out the wind gusts. A typical breeze for my area is between 4 and 5 MPH, but noooooo, we’re getting close to 40 MPH. That’s a BIG difference.

Actually, Zephryos stirred things up back at the beginning of March. Remember the oak tree?

March 4, 2021.

Zephryos is one of the Anemoi, the Greek gods known as the Gods of the Four Winds. There is Boreas the North-Wind, Zephryos (Zephyrus) the West, Notos (Notus) the South, and Euros (Eurus) the East. Each of these gods is associated with a season — Euros giving us autumn breezes; Boreas offering the cold breath of winter; Zephyros is responsible for spring zephyrs; and Notos, summer rain-storms. Perhaps the brothers are just having some good ol’ fashioned fun as they blew the dickens out of my little world.

Do you need more freakiness to convince you this is a freaky spring? Okay, a Baltimore Oriole had chosen my yard as his nesting territory. No, that’s not the freaky part.

Let’s call this fellow Stanley.

We’ll call Stanley’s mate Stella. While Stanley sang about his beautiful territory and stunning mate, Stella spent time gathering the string I would leave out for her to use as building material for their nest.

Stanley and Stella were happy until one day an interloper arrived and challenged Stanley to a duel. The two birds fought an aerial battle worthy of Snoopy and The Red Baron. (I dare you not to smile while watching this video.)

Lots of squawking ensued as the birds swooped in a display of vivid orange feathers. The interloper feigned a left but banked sharply to the right, I can only image he was hoping to outsmart Stanley. Sadly, he didn’t bank tight enough and hit my office window. Dead in an instant. Stanley sang his victorious song while I buried the interloper’s body in my garden.

What of Stella, you ask? Oh, she told Stanley to quite fooling around and help her gather more string.

Need more evidence this is a freaky spring? How about this? Someone dumped over 20 full leaf bags in the marsh. Yup, just dumped them off his (I’m assuming it was a man) big-ass truck into the Federally-protected, I might add, marsh. Twenty-plus Market Basket Lawn-and-Leaf bags distributed on both sides of Elsie Ave.

My neighbor called the police and I called the town’s DPW department; we both received less than helpful responses. I notified the EPA and my neighbor climbed down into the tick (more on ticks in a bit) infested poison ivy and dragged the bags up the embankment and onto the road. He then enlisted a few more neighbors and got the town to come out and pick up the bags. Okay, here’s my question: What kind of  🤬  dumps bags of leaves and stuff into a marsh when the town will pick up unlimited bags for free? Or, What kind of  🤬  dumps  🤬  into a marsh, period?

On the subject of ticks, YUCK! This is going to be a bad season for the little varmints. Correction — it already IS a bad season. When I take Harlee for his morning walk I spy the blood suckers clinging to blades of grass just hoping either Harlee or I will brush against the vegetation.

Dog tick enlarged to look scary.

Thus far I’ve removed over a dozen from Harlee’s body. Damn ticks.

I hope I’ve enlightened you as to why 2021’s spring is freaky. If you’re not convinced, watch out for falling amphibians…

Google ‘plagues‘.

… and drunk gnomes.

Google ‘Bombay Bramble‘. Yum!

Blessed be :}

Mi manchi, mia amata immortale.

About tinthia

Wondering, searching, and wandering, I'm an earth witch with a desire to get it right in my lifetime. The flow of the river feeds my inner goddess and fuels my soul. Blessed be. :}
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