driving with the windows down

our winter started back in october, back in nebraska and it seemed to follow us as we headed east across the country. the otherwise mild winter here turned cold and the snow began to fall as soon as the last box was pulled from the moving truck. winter seemed to have barbs and wouldn't shake free. it can make you forget what shorts feel like, or flip-flops or driving with your windows down.

on these early spring mornings the birds are up before the sun, sending their chorus echoing through the halls of another temporary home. the cool nights provide a cool room and we lay awake, warm under cheap covers, silently listening to the songs of horny robins busy weaving nests from lawn scraps and road side garbage.

eventually there are bugs. bugs caked on my windshield and bumper and out-of-state license plate. bugs in the air and bugs on the water. so many people sick with cabin fever, eager for vitamin D, appear from everywhere. you can end up feeling bitter and and looking at a fellow angler as the enemy. like winter, the crowds will eventually pass.

so i make the effort not to care. i'll skip ahead to another pool and give you a wide berth. i like walking in the woods. if that doesn't work i'll find my car and look for another spot. i'll put my windows down and roll slowly, grateful for another winter on the books and the warm breeze on my face.