I saw a chickadee with some grass in its beak this morning, and yesterday there were sharp crocuses diving upwards from the soil. The sun is out. It’s March, all the snow is gone, and the world is damp. I can smell it. That means there are tiny specks of organic matter floating around everywhere.

I went on an overnight trip, and stayed in a hotel. My bed had a nice duvet and many soft, soft pillows, and down was possibly involved. I tossed the pillows to one side and lay flat, but down was still somewhere there, and I had a difficult night, waking up regularly to cough.

Yesterday, I went to church. My church has a proper service with someone (the thurifer) swinging a big incense burner (the thurible) up the aisle and into the sanctuary, and by the end of the service, the slanting rays of light from the stained glass windows up high were embodied by the smoke. I had to assure the people sitting in front of and behind me at church that I was not infectious, because even though I wear a KN95 mask indoors all the time, I was now coughing fairly constantly.

That is to say, it’s the time of year when I use the heck out of my inhaler.

I have cough-variant asthma, and so I am making horrid noises. When I got home from church, I changed all my clothes, did a wash, and took a shower, and that helped some, but this morning I’m still coughing and retching. I took a COVID test yesterday and gloomily confirmed what I already knew, that it isn’t a virus. It’s just my damn body.

I don’t need the inhaler most of the year, though I take it with me everywhere all the time. Every once in a while, something will set me off and I’ll start coughing, and then everything sets it off.

I will be coughing for a while. I may even end up with bronchitis if I’m not careful, because the tissues get irritated and whatever infectious pathogens are around will jump at the opportunity to infect me.

Ah, spring.