So, I was going for a walk today, as I often do, and I came to realization. I hate spring. Loathe it.
So many people seem to love it so much, calling it some sort of glorious rebirth or something. Spring is mud, and sunshine without warmth, and manure, and a bare scratchy earth mutilating the sky. Spring is the only time when the earth is as ugly as humanity. Perhaps that's a beautiful thing, but it certainly is bad for my mental health, because I go on these walks to escape the ungliness of humanity.
Spring is the only season that is entirely devoid of protection, of cover. When the snow melts, all that remains is vulgar dirt and mud. Lawns are unmasked to show chalky white animals feces, rotting. Floods recede to cover land in muck and mire, small pebbles floating on the useless dead chaff that is the weeds from last summer. Ice covered rivers melt, coughing up the dead fish that they had encapsulated as a gift to the birds. In spring, the bodies come out to play.
Now, my walks, probably due to my being sick in the head, tend to revolve around roadkill. I find it fascinating. Two days ago, there was a squirrel and a chipmunk, about twenty feet apart and on opposite sides of the road. The squirrel was absolutely pristine, broken skull smashed into a pile of blood and mucus, prone, and the rest of him pretty much intact. Yesterday, the chipmunk was gone without a trace, and the squirrel's body was missing, the only evidence that it ever existed was a magenta splotch in the gravel in the shape of a four leaf clover. Today, not even the blood remained.
There's one house, particularly menacing, with many "No Tresspassing" signs and malicious looking barbed wire fences. Invariably, there is a dead rabbit hanging from one of the wires. There was one that was there for several months, but then disappeared. Another one is now strung up in its place. I would love to meet the person that did this, just to hear the reasoning behind it.
I recently discovered, after deciding on taking a different route for my walk, a heap of winters' hidden bodies. It appears that someone decided to dump some deer remains out in the country in a garbage bag. I nearly didn't see them the first time, and my first reaction was one of revulsion, followed quickly by outrage. I can imagine the absolute glee that scavenging beasties must have felt about this present. I can also imagine the time when the deer(probably at least 6 of them) had muscles and tendons attached to their ribcages, and they never would have thought a teenage girl would be blogging an impromptu eulogy for their bones, scattered by the roadside.
I think that I've adopted the corpses, they are my carcass children and I grow ever fonder of them each time that we meet. They are gorgeous, and a sad reminder of how moronic and inconsiderate that humans really are.
