The backstory is that the only place to park my car behind the house is underneath a rather large Japanese Maple tree.

Over the last number of weeks it has been dropping clumps of red seeds, pollen and other combinations of organic detritus all over the backyard, into the driveway and on top of the car, which needs to be scooped off the door handles and windshield before driving off.

I was out shopping the other day, and upon pulling into the driveway saw my next door neighbor standing outside. We stopped to chat, when she suddenly paused, gave me that funny look I have gotten to know so well, said “You have some stuff….,” and with a little smile pulled a couple of tiny twigs off my head. Well, that part was not unusual (see Things That Land In Your Hair 7/30/22).

But when I walked into the house and checked the mirror to see if there were any more there, I discovered it was not just a couple of seeds stuck to my hair – my entire head was covered in tree droppings. I had been out in public sporting a head filled with tiny tadpoles of red pollen. Hopefully anyone who may have noticed (how could you not?) maybe thought it was some sort of fashion statement, as opposed to concluding this lady is an eccentric. Once upon a time I might have been mildly mortified. Now this ridiculous scenario just made me laugh.

Due to long stretches of rainy days occurring here, the continuing shower of tree debris (there is soooo much of it)) has become wet clumps packed into every crease, curve and vent of the car. The expectation was that the ongoing rain would eventually wash some of it off, but it hasn’t.

I had snapped a photo of an ant that had caught my attention as it aimlessly and inexplicably walked around on the surface of the trunk (okay, maybe that’s nerdy), but you can notice as an aside how this litter has gotten into every crevice.

Despite pulling handfuls of gunk off the the car each time I leave to go somewhere, it had become so densely packed on that a trip to the carwash was deemed necessary; the next sunny day I drove down there. Now I will preface the rest of this by mentioning that the carwash is kind of a Cheap Thrill for me (see Windshield Galactica 5/28/24). It doesn’t happen that often – the last time was maybe about a year ago. I will admit that when I am in the carwash, a bit of childlike regression occurs.

Bam! This happened first, like having a bottle of black ink thrown at you! It was so sudden I actually said “Whoa!” and then realized I was exclaiming aloud and nobody else was in the car with me. Well, okay…

Next came the “Car Wash Borealis.”

“Whap!!” Those persistent little seeds were fighting the waves, hanging on despite the deluge.

By the time we got to this point I was laughing loudly and exclaiming “Whoo-hooo!”…..all by myself. It was easy to imagine how cool it would have been to have one of my grandkids with me (or even one of my kids, although they might have started to worry about Mom’s sanity)….. or actually anybody who might have appreciated and enjoyed the wild, abstract nature of it…… fun, if only for a couple of minutes.

“Here comes The Edge of Night!”

Things swiftly moved toward the finale, a cloudy ceiling of rising birds. You can see some of those little tree buggers are still stubbornly holding on…

It ended with a giant blue tumbleweed swiftly coming into view. “Ha! It’s Cookie Monster!” (yeah, I really needed a kid with me), then a brief tunnel of fiercely blowing wind – and it was over.

Why bother? It rained for almost an entire week afterward, and despite it all, the car still has tree droppings stuck on it. I’m probably going to need to clean it by hand to remove all this stuff. Eventually.

Afterward I mused to myself…. and wondered. Yikes, am I crazy? Could this be what happens when you are spending a lot of time by yourself? Maybe it is a sign of some child-like regression. If so, is that so bad? Finding joy in the little things. Or maybe it’s a bit of “I Don’t Care What Anyone Thinks.”

Raucous laughter all alone in the carwash and hair covered with red pollen in the supermarket. Should I worry yet? Is it just me, or is this just a common stage of aging?

~*~