Since it's late April, I'm willing to bet that, even in the more northerly portions of the Northern Hemisphere, spring is, as they say, in the air. Yards, medians and meadows are redolent with the scent of flowers, warmth unfurls across the land, light breezes play through budding trees and birds sing out their joy to the rain-washed blue sky.
Oh wait, no, they don't. The birds, in fact, sing out their personal ads to the rain-washed blue skies - unless you live in a wet climate, in which the skies are grey, or a desert, where they're not anything-washed and you've felt like you're living in a broiler oven for six weeks already. No matter where you are, that flower-scented air is making itself felt in sneezes, runny noses, red and watering eyes, and asthma attacks. In some places, this doesn't even come with the benefit of smelling flowers! I've lived in cities where all you smell is, well, city, even if you're standing right next to a median full of daffodils.
It's not that spring isn't beautiful - it really is; in my opinion, at least three of the seasons are. I'm not so sure about summer. Well, no, I take it back, summer is beautiful, but it's also a pain in the butt because I run warm and, while you can always put more clothes on, there's an unfortunate limit on how much it's socially acceptable to take off. Back on the subject: spring. It is gorgeous, especially here. The quickening in the air and the spreading blush of silver-green unfurling into lushness, the hum of bees and calls of birds and frogs make it an absolute joy to be outside, even if various plants' contributions require the company of a packet of tissues* in order to do so.
However, the whole Disney-like sweetness-and-light thing is pretty off base. See the part about the birds. We humans like to think that the beautiful birdsong arises from some high-minded ideal such as joy or love. In reality, if it has to do with love at all, it's love of a carnal (or at least, since some species do mate for life,) romantic sort. This goes for the frogs, too, and double, triple, or perhaps quadruple for the freakin' plants. Everything about a flower is designed for one purpose: reproduction. Spring is all about the reproduction.
The thing is, that isn't bad! It's sure not as glamorous; not only do we live in a society less freaked out by televised shows of murder than of sex between consenting adults, but also we have hung on to the Romantic ideal that nature is, well, ideal - that it's a reflection of humanity's better half or something, mirroring our states of mind without reminding us of the supposedly base among them. We don't like to be reminded of sex, death, excretion, hunger; of things biological and instinctual and so, ironically, our cultural attitudes toward nature, from which these things arise and by which they are ruled, filters them out.
"Disneyfication" is a common term for this nature-censoring. It's not really an ample term, implying as it does an over-the-top saccharine wash aimed solely at children when, really, it's more widespread and subtle. I mean, it's understandable - especially the desire not to think about bodily function, or animals killing each other! We get enough crap and violence from our fellow humans, in both a literal and metaphorical sense of "crap." However, ignoring something doesn't make it go away, and applying a squeamish sensibility to facts is a good way to a) give yourself an ulcer, b) make a fool of yourself as the grown human being talking about how the rabbits are hugging, or c) both of the above.
Yeah, the birdsong is a mating call. That makes it no less beautiful, any more than the fact that it's beautiful makes it less of a mating call. Just as an astronomer can both examine a galaxy's inner workings and appreciate its breathtaking loveliness, the rest of us can appreciate nature for what it is, not what we'd like it to be. Not only can we do this, but perhaps, for all I hate the word** we should. It might help us do the same for one another, and for ourselves.
*You. Yes, you with the filthy mind. I know what you're thinking and, dude, what on earth is wrong with you!?
**More on that later, too.
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