Spring is in the Air

Oh, the joys of springtime.  All around me I see evidence that nature is once again in its most beautiful and amorous form.  The daffodils are blooming on the hillsides. The bluebirds have arrived in N Georgia and I see them building nest in my boxes and on my porch eve in preparation for the mating season.  Herds of female deer prance through the meadow by the house and in the evening I hear them sprint down the street toward the lake, looking for Mr. Right Deer.  The bear have awakened and are prowling for quick meals and someone to share with them the berries and small chipmunks who make the mistake of looking for a date rather than watching for bear.   Even the bunnies are jumping around and switching their little noses looking for the one to make their wishes come true.  Yes, spring is in the air and with it comes love.  There is nothing like springtime to fill the heart and head with thoughts of love and being loved.  For weeks now my profile has sat idle on Match.com.  Not a soul has beckoned at my door (except that stupid one who stood me up) or even bothered to wink at me.  Sadly, I was truly contemplating giving up but... what's this??  You've got mail, and mail, and wink and wink.  I get request after request to respond.  Man after man seeks me out and tells me how charming my profile, darling my photos, alluring and interesting I seem.  I pull up my public view and look at my profile and my photos.  No, that's me.  I haven't changed.  No one has gotten me confused and put Jennifer Aniston in my place.  It's just springtime and the thrill of the chase is on for males of all species.  Suddenly, I am hit with shades of Middle School.  Doesn't this feel a little familiar, I think.  Don't I remember something like this happening right about this time back then?  Oh, yes, now I remember: men break up right before Christmas and never want a girlfriend again until after the dreaded Valentine's Day Massacre.  Then its full steam ahead, running all over each other in a futile attempt to secure a promising female for the mating season.  Everywhere I look, there's facial hair.   Seventy year old widowers with really bad teeth and bald heads tell me of their interest in seeing me sitting in their Miatas or traveling cross country in their Winnebagos. Seventy -five year olds ask if I can still drive at night and could I pick them up, or we could do lunch.  The older ones (yes, there are older ones) ask if I have looked into assisted living arrangements and suggest we might split the cost of a room should we find we enjoy each other's company. I wonder that if I am dating my father, does that mean I'm becoming my Mother???  Yes, love is in the air.  And it stinks.