My nose knows

I remember when I was a kid, I and other children were told that a robin was the first sign of spring. Since then, of course, we’ve all noticed that, at least around this latitude, robins stay all year. Don’t know about other places.

Since I can’t depend on robins, how then do I know spring is coming? Easy. I would know, even if it weren’t for dates on calendars and TV commentators telling me about it. How?

Even the Weather Channel doesn’t tell me anything I don’t know. I turn on the TV, tune in the Weather Channel, and am told that pollen will be exceptionally heavy today. In fact, the report has been saying the pollen – tree pollen, in this case – would be heavy for several days running now.

Thanks for the tip, folks (that was sarcasm).

Like I needed to be told. My car, which is usually light tan or beige (depending on your particular taste when it comes to describing colors; by the way, the car manufacturer calls it “sand”) has a yellowish green cast to it.

And as if the visual proof isn’t enough, I’m sneezing. More than usual, that is.

I say more than usual because I sneeze every day of my life, several times in fact. I can’t remember when I haven’t done that; ask my family, they’ll tell you all about it (I may get that from my dad, who was a sneezing champion). I suppose it’s some kind of allergic reaction to something that’s always around, but I’m so used to it I just sneeze and keep going.

It always starts with that unmistakable, irresistible tickle in my nose, which tells me it’s time to grab for a tissue if I can get to one in time, because it’s going to happen and there’s not much I can do to stop it. When the sneeze arrives, it’s never alone. My sneezes almost always come in groups of two or three. So when I start having sneezing fits of five or six at a time, I know I’m either coming down with a cold, or it’s pollen time in the South.

(Hmmm, “Pollen Time in the South.” Sounds almost poetic. I’m surprised that Stephen Foster, or Irving Berlin, or somebody, never wrote a song about it. Then again, to be honest, while “Pollen Time in the South” may sound sweet or nostalgic, most allergy sufferers probably think the actual subject matter wouldn’t lend itself to music. Most likely, they think it would be better suited to Edgar Allan Poe or Stephen King.)

And the pollen hasn’t reached its peak, not yet. I haven’t seen it blowing down the street, or across a parking lot. It hardly seems fair. In fact, doggone it, it ain’t fair. Here we are, we’ve had an unpleasant winter. And it’s a great relief to feel warm sun and see trees leafing out and flowers blooming. Unfortunately, many of us are paying for all the blooming with sneezes (or in my case, extra sneezes) and itchy eyes.

Oh, I take stuff for it. Maybe it helps some, but I still sneeze.

•••••

And yes, clouds of pollen aren’t the only harbingers of spring. I’m wanting to cook out again soon, or spend evenings sitting on my back porch, and I’m sure I won’t be alone. There will be bugs a-plenty to keep me company.

Some I don’t mind. Honey bees are welcome at any time, though they are daytime buzzers; in fact, I wish there were more of them. Fireflies – er, excuse me; I meant lightnin’ bugs – can visit my yard any time. Some even come up on the porch as if to say hi.

Others are not so welcome.

I don’t care much for wasps. They tend to get belligerent, which I don’t understand since I’m such a nice guy.

And though I’ve often been told that everything has a purpose, I’ve yet to figure out why gnats exist. What is their reason for being? Maybe Mother Nature thinks we all benefit by being annoyed occasionally; and there’s nothing like a drifting cloud of gnats to achieve that.

And of course, if I grill, there are flies, no matter how much I scrub beforehand. I’ve gotten good at protecting food from flies.

•••••

By the time this is read, my wife, Alice, will have gotten her second Covid shot, and with that, we both will have been double shot. As it turns out, I got Moderna, she got Pfizer.

So, are we safe? Or, how safe are we? Will we get the virus, anyway? Or if we don’t get it, would we have been just as safe without the vaccine?

Those are unanswerable questions. But I believe we did the right thing, and took the safest route, by getting the vaccine.

I can’t help but wonder, are we coming to a time when we can all unmask? Will it be a wild Fourth of July, or an even wilder Christmas? The thought of sitting and watching the New Year’s celebration on Times Square almost boggles the mind, even though I wouldn’t go there for love or money, even before Covid.

Anyway, we’re shot.

(EDITOR’S NOTE: David Nichol is a freelance writer who retired from the Times-Herald. He can be contacted at nicholdb@cablelynx.com.)