Clash...

Yesterday's weather was superb; not too warm, good breeze, and dry. Perfect for our daily walk in the woods. The breeze was of enough strength, even on the forested trails, to keep the mosquitoes at bay. And a multitude of gorgeous dragonflies were present, along with a pair of Damselflies, to do their part in both entertaining us by their presence, and making short work of the mosquitoes.

The sun beautifully illuminated the flowering bedding grasses which themselves perfumed the air about us. There are buttercups in abundance, and daisies, and a sprinkling of hawkweed, and finally the fleabane with its perfect little pink flowers and their bright yellow centres have also begun their bloom. Tangling through them all, is the cowvetch, whose bright purple-blue blooms give colour contrast to all of this.

We heard cardinals and saw a flycatcher which seems, oddly enough, to appear at a certain place in the ravine around this time of year for a week or two, and then goes off elsewhere. We watched robins doing their running-walk along the trail, looking for what? earthworms, other creatures of the soil? The ground is still drying out from all the rain we've had these past few months.

The idyll, unfortunately, was disturbed by the incessant jarring, intrusive chaotic jumble of sound that bored through the natural, pleasant sounds of the ravine. It's silly-season time, when people think they are complementing Nature by putting on various spring festivals. Invariably, these are colourful, and dreadully loud. Loudspeakers blare sounds that are confused by those incapable of discriminating properly, with music, though there is little resemblance to be found between music and that inchoate mess.

Two women and a young girl dressed in costume dance on top of one of the floats in the Carivibe Parade on Saturday. Fred Sherwin/Photo

Just as well these events take place seldom enough that we can grit and bear them. They do seem to give pleasure to many within any society. And so be it.