Harbingers of Spring

Spring! At last it has arrived along with all its "firsts".

The sun is warm when it occasionally shines in this neck of the woods.  Lilacs are in bloom, daffodils and forsythia have come and gone.  One day there was a robin, the next day there were hundreds.  With them came the bluebirds, grackles and the sweet mating call of the cardinals.

The leaves are a glorious shade of new green. The scent of cut grass and wet (very wet) dirt fill the air.  Strawberries will soon be in season.  Yes, spring has sprung.   The days are wonderfully warm, the nights cool and, if we are lucky, starlit.  The harbingers of spring don't shout; they creep in slowly, surprising us with their intensity.

Yes, I'm talking about ants.

There weren't any a few days ago.  Then hubby found one....today he called me at work to bring home traps.  The big black buggers had set up shop anywhere they could find a crumb.

We go through this every year.  I stopped being embarrassed by the ant population when I  went to buy traps one day and saw my neighbor (the one with the sterilized kitchen floor) sneaking out with an array of traps and sprays.  Other stores, other neighbors stripping the shelves of poison and boric acid.  We're all in the same boat--or should I say anthill.  What was Noah thinking when he took two ants on the ark?

I bought a dozen ant traps, spray and boric acid.  I put the traps under the fridge and the microwave, in the cupboards and under the sofa. The computer den got one as did the bathroom.  Boric acid went in the grooves of the threshold and the ridges in the window sills. I sprayed the steps and the heater vents. They don't stand a chance.

I looked down to see an ant crawling on my foot. I am not afraid of ants.  I saw him grin at me.  Really, he did.  He was still grinning when I flattened him with my loafered sole.  History.

 I'm not a natural-born killer.  I will rescue ladybugs from the macaroni salad. I will capture a moth and set it free.  I have even been known to save the lives of an ant or two, explaining to them that they must tell their friends not to come in here or they will die.  I am not fluent in ant-speak.  I hope they understand. When a couple of apparently drunk ants stumbled across the bathroom floor, I let them go. Maybe they will take their ration of poison back to wherever it is they hang out.

I was sick of winter. I tired of the boots and gloves, even my pink fur coat.  Warmth feels good.  This is the year I will go hiking and biking, white-watering and kayaking.  I will lose the pounds that have been bugging me.  I will find a publisher for my as yet unwritten children's book.  I will  make more friends and get to know my newly found relatives.  I can do it all.

And I don't need the ants to help out.