Spring Has Sprung, So Sayeth I.

Well, okay, the calendar says it too. But screw the calendar. The calendar doesn't make it so. The sky might still shit down snow as hard as ever, and the calendar couldn't do a damn thing about it. But when I decide spring is here, I break out the flip flops and start dragging Jason across the countryside and if spring doesn't like it, spring can just kiss my butt.

We went to the Milne Dam Conservation Park that snakes around Rouge River, which Jason took issue with because it's not so much "in the bush" as an "urban park" which is not as naturerrific as we would have liked, but when you live in the city, you have to be thankful for any grass or trees you get.


Jason calls the roots "nature's staircase" which is sweet until they try to trip you up, which, if you're me, they absolutely do. For some reason we took the path less trampled, which led us down a very steep slope that culminated in the world's tiniest ledge, where we used only our big toes to shimmy ourselves across. Somehow, I managed to cross this treacherous bit, and when we were on firmer land, I toppled over, ass into mud, hair into brambles, and then I just kind of kept rolling down until my left side found wet. "It's okay," I shouted "spring is in my pants!"

And I had the pleasure of carrying around a sopping amount of spring for the duration of our hike.


The geese were honking like mad. I could only imagine how painfully horny they were based on these honks, which I assumed were the equivalent of a weathered-looking 40 year old woman squeezed into pleather, body glitter spread across the cleavage of her sagging bosom, looking for love in all the wrong places. Or they were just honking. It's hard to tell.


It was a sort of fabulous day in the end, even if I did come home with bog cultures in my pockets. There weren't many other people out save for a couple of cute men who held hands when they weren't bird watching so we had nature (or the urban version of nature) to ourselves. It was a little soggier than usual, and certainly more brown than green, but a breath of fresh air all the same.