Happy, Happy First of May
Outdoor F***ing Starts Today
Today is May Day, Beltane, the first of May...whatever fits your fancy. Here in the northern hemisphere, the Earth is ripe and exploding with rejuvenation. The plant kingdom is sprouting...pushing its green succulence out of the warming ground. Leaves reaching up...drinking, greedily, the rain. Absorbing, selfishly, the sunlight. Bees and birds are doin' it. We'll, I think the bees are, they're more private with their loving ways. But the birds...ah, I know they are in full flush.
My massage room is in the second floor dormer that juts out into the trees. To me, it feels like a luxurious, cushy tree house. I can hear the pigeons on the roof right outside my windows while I work. All day long, I listen to their throatier-than-usual "Coo, coo, coo." Followed by little, scratchy, birdie footsteps across the shingles. Lots of boisterous wing flapping followed by more cooing.
I watch as a female slowly, but pointedly, strolls past a male. Stopping, just long enough and close enough, for him to catch the scent of her female juiciness. Then she nonchalantly turns, tail feathers in his face, and walks away from him, over the peak of the roof line, out of sight. For a moment he blinks, blinks, blinks. Bewildered. Then, purposely, he struts after her. Obviously catching her, they give air to a velvety, rich, duet of inner and afterglow coos. Pigeon purrs.
I feel voyeuristic, almost a little embarrassed, to be in such close proximity to their love fest. Like I'm the one held captive in my lofty, glass-windowed cage watching life as it goes on beyond my confines.
Happy, happy first of May, my friends.
May we all be so lucky in love today.
