Wednesday, April 22, 2009
The Green Dust
When the trees begin to pollinate, my body rebels. I am extremely, terribly, awfully, horribly allergic to tree pollen. I used to be so angry about this particular reality, and justifiably so when you consider that, from late April through May, DC is at its most beautiful. It's warm but not hot, the air is soft but not muggy, and there are no bugs yet except butterflies and bees. All the trees have the freshest green leaves, every plant is tender and colorful. It's breathtaking. For me, it's literally breathtaking.
During the last couple of years, I've become far more philosophical about it. This morning I was thinking that my allergic reaction to the mating dance of the trees and grasses is a perfect constitutional description of whatever it is that made me so bad at Paganism. I was better at the high priestess thing, i.e. standing in the center of the circle being high and mighty, than I ever was at the regular Pagan thing - like dancing around the campfire naked. I never did that, not ever. Frolicking in the woods at Beltaine? No way. "Polyamory" as Pagans call it? NO! I liked the metaphorical sexuality of the Maypole for instance, but the free and open literal sexuality of Paganism was too free and too open for me.
So is it any wonder that, right now as the trees and grasses begin pouring the green dust all over the landscape, I'm about to become hypersensitive? It all makes sense, it does.
Happy Earth Day to all. Hey you trees and grasses - have a wild and unfettered orgy, by all means! But could you leave me out of it? Inter-species sex is always gross! Thanks, ya'll!