Bender's Pond

Sprung, it has.

I spent my past weekend at the cabin working, among other things, on a commission piece for the National Eagle Center. The piece has been hard coming, but that's another show. I will write of it and post an audio file when I feel fully triumphant in the matter.

As for my little place in the woods, I am reminded of spring as the new shoots of green grass are poking foreheads skyward. Another week or so and the first mow of the season will seem logical. The bank behind the cabin is overgrown with lovely vinca minor...delicately in bloom right now with the tiniest of little violet-colored blossoms. Someone once called this periwinkle, and it's a name I very much favor. Nice name for a fiddle tune...or a pet goldfish.

My phoebe is back, making a mess of things on the west entrance landing. She and her mate have been coming back for nine years, or so it seems. I doubt a phoebe could actually last nine seasons in the wild, but every spring, the same nest gets remade with a face lift and the first of at least two clutches of flycatcher babies gets raised. I have oft wondered if the grown babes of previous phoebe generations have returned to carry on atop the familiar real estate.

Between musical notes, I resolved to give both the cabin and the outhouse a good spring cleaning. Riley is coming next weekend and we are entertaining some potential business contacts who might bring more work. Riley's going to show them the trout water whilst I unearth my most devious culinary skills in an attempt to impress them with good old Shady Grove hospitality.

(Sidebar: Alas, once again, I must enter the dark, sleazy world of food porn...my sinister alter-ego personality comes to the surface...another insecure little man trying find love and acceptance through bringing culinary orgasm to others. I mean, never mind what my mother did to make me feel this way, sometimes a bratwurst is just a bratwurst, Doc.)

But anyway... Boy!... The spring cleaning was surely needed. I really ripped everything apart and gave it the once over. Looks like a million bucks now.

Perhaps there is nothing more a reminder of spring for me than the gifts that waft across the valley from Bender's Pond. Dr. Bender lives up the valley a short distance. He and his wife have never been particularly gregarious, let alone friendly. I once formally invited them by hand delivered written invitation (along with all the surrounding neighbors in our three or four square mile neighborhood) to an old-time music party down in our little shady grove of trees, our camp down on the river. Live fiddle music, cold beer, grilled burgers and brats. They didn't come. No one else from the valley did either. Too bad, we had a great time.

Once, after a major flood, I loaded up a nice lawn chair that had washed downstream onto my property, and putted my lawn tractor and wagon up to Bender's to return it to them. That was the first time I was introduced to his wife, who said,

"Oh, you're the guy with that damn loud generator over there?"
"Well, yes, but we only used it to build the cabin," I responded. "It hasn't been run for three years."

Nothing like making a good first impression.

No matter. All oddities aside, I do like one very special thing about them...their pond. It isn't a natural body of water. It's something Bender wanted to hire made so he could watch wildlife out of his big, expensive picture window. I haven't a clue whether it required a DNR permit, what it cost, how long it took to make, or whether or not the two of them even enjoy it. All I know is that I certainly do, even though I can't see it from my own place.

But, in the nights of early and mid April, the peepers come alive in a breeding frenzy, and I am reminded that my little place in the country is once again in the rush of spring. Because of Bender's pond, ducks and geese frequently fly over my space, singing their own familiar songs. The music of Bender's pond is as much a part of my own property as anything else. It's the sound of what's up valley and just out of my sight...but not beyond the ear.

I've written songs about my cabin and the peepers, although none mention Bender's Pond. My favorite begins by telling the listener that every year it's the peepers that remind me of spring. I make a lot of music on my cabin porch and at the kitchen table there, but none of it sounds like the music up the valley on that little, pitiful, shallow pool of fishless water.

I have posted this video before, but I feel that it is most relevant at this
time of year, when the peepers are at their finest:

The Wheel Comes Around