I get itchy-titchy when I see the University canoe still on the beach, the remnants of this Saturday's and last May's bonfires still littering the beach, the paper Subway wrapper washing in the waves, the beer cans and water bottles filled with sand and tossed into the lake, the . . . .
Even lying on the dam bridge (the better to watch the American toads and let their whirring song vibrate me as well as the water), I wanted to tell the loud others -- talking on their phones, running, playing fetch with their dogs -- to go somewhere else.
Sometimes it's hard to live in community.
But the first truly spring day makes up for others' carefree interruptions and my petty sensibilities.