All the cars are yellow.
Trucks, too.
Yours, mine, everyone’s.
No matter what color they started out as or where you find them — driveway, highway, or car lot — they’re all yellow now.
So is the inside of my head.
Mother Nature can be a tricky lady. Nowhere in the world is she any more lovely than she is in North Carolina in the spring. The Dogwood blooms, azaleas, the Bradford Pear trees, and all the rest — easy on the eyes.
But nowhere is she any more irritating than her current yellow calling card: the pines and hardwoods in all their radiant itchiness, dusting any and everything that moves or doesn’t.
Not only are the vehicles yellow but so, too, is the outdoor furniture ... and the front porch, the back porch, the gas grill, the leftover winter woodpile, the dog. About the only thing that isn’t yellow is where dog rolls around on the front porch in his resting, wiping it clean.
Too bad I can’t get a wash cloth in his paw to take care of the cars.
I guess pollen is part of the Great Design of how things — in this case trees, shrubs, flowers, and so on — create the next generation. It would be a rough thing if humans and animals had to do that the same way.
Dust and unsightliness aside, the big problem with pollen for me and thousands of others is the itchy eye issue, especially if you wear contacts. Eyes itch and water and turn red. They look like Georgia road maps.
You’ll see folks going along who suddenly will shriek with pain, bend over, close their eyes tightly and start flailing the air like someone gone mad, all because a grain — or hundreds of them — of pollen has landed in their eye and parked under a contact lens. It’s not easy to drive in that condition or position.
Some time ago I got interested in the further study of this annual spring event so I did a careful 10-minute search of the internet. Saw a picture of a grain of pollen. Looks like a miniature sweet gum ball, sort of a porcupine egg.
No wonder it’s a pain in the wazoo — or more accurately the eye or nose or sinus or throat.
Fortunately, the Great Designer makes the breeding of plants occur over a short period of time and the result is well worth the agony. Guess that’s more of the understanding that many times many good things often are birthed in great pain and agony.
I’m going to do my best to remember that the next time I bend over and flail my arms in the air because a spec of oak tree pollen has decided to call my left eye home, even for a brief period of time.
If that happens to you, try to hang on and remember 1) it’s for a short time, and 2) the view is worth it.
Bob Wachs is a native of Chatham County and retired long-time managing editor of the Chatham News/Chatham Record, having written a weekly column for more than 30 years. During most of his time with the newspapers, he was also a bi-vocational pastor and today serves Bear Creek Baptist Church for the second time as pastor.