Thursday, January 17, 2008
I tried to look up the origin of this expression but could only find reference to the book by this name by author Tim Cahill. Maybe he coined the expression in which case he has my admiration. I wish I could turn a phrase that evocatively. I can simply close my eyes and imagine some hapless soul besieged by ducks.
Pecked to death by ducks comes to mind as a metaphor for how I am feeling these days. It seems as if turning 46 has left me experiencing a foretaste of the woes of getting older. Nothing that will kill me but so far nothing that will make me stronger either. (Source of this expression: "What does not kill me makes me stronger." "Twilight of the Idols" (1899) by Friedrich Nietzsche). Little aches and pains that leave me, vaguely, feeling eroded.
Part of it is just winter weariness. This weekend it is predicted to get down to 0 degrees F. In Celsius, that would be "just too damn cold." The heat wave of last week is long gone. I don't know about you all but I am longing for a glimpse of the sun. But this too will pass. For me, living in Chicago, March is sort of the "hump month" when I start to feel in my heart that winter is almost gone. Of course, there will be the April Fool's Day snow storm to make us think that maybe we ought to hibernate for another month, but March is still the tipping point.
Here is a brief reminder of the exuberance of spring.