Boy, was it erotic out this morning.
I went for a run in our neighborhood, and May was in full bloom. Cool breeze, warm sun, cloudless sky almost a cornflower blue. The barest of the trees were covered with bursting buds, and most had brand new leaves unfurled in flawless verdant beauty. There was more color in the foliage than on a fine day in October, only it was pink, lavender, white, yellow and magenta. The air was scented clean from the previous day’s rain, mixed with the heady scent of a couple dozen species of flowers. Every gust of breeze sent flower petals showering down on me like confetti at a party. I ran past garden after garden filled with newly blooming tulips, lilacs, daffodils and lilies.
This kind of fecundity is contagious.
I love the word “fecundity.” It simply means fertileness, but sounds so much richer, and implies an erotic sort of magic. When nature abounds in beauty and new growth, a person just feels like being beautiful too, like turning on the charm and winning hearts, like giving every friend a kiss. The total absence of decay and dreariness makes one feel like any sort of mischief is possible, and the normal rules of daily life are temporarily suspended so that all may simply have fun.
I remembered the song Guinevere sings in Rodgers & Hammerstein’s musical “Camelot,” entitled “The Lusty Month of May”…
Tra la! It's May! The lusty month of May!
That darling month when ev'ryone throws self-control away.
It's time to do a wretched thing or two,
And try to make each precious day one you'll always rue!
It's May! It's May! The month of "yes you may,"
The time for ev'ry frivolous whim, proper or "im."
It's wild! It's gay! A blot in ev'ry way.
The birds and bees with all of their vast amorous past
Gaze at the human race aghast,
The lusty month of May!
Ah yes, let us all imitate the birds and bees and get a little lusty. The forecast for this fine day in May in Wisconsin is “romantic, with occasional scattered bursts of amorous adventure.”