The snow is gone.
All of it. Every pesky little flake.
And being outside to start the spring clean up is surreal.
That teeny, tiny, closed in white world we have been living in for months is BIG. HUGE actually. With dead grass and piles of leaves and spent morning glory vines snaking crispy stems across the arbor and fence. And I love it. Every bit.
So after a few hours of raking in the yard and gardens, I was ready for a little diversion.
When my daughter and her friend, both hopefully clad in beach attire and armed with squirt guns, begged for a trip to our town beach, I dropped the rake and hopped in the car.
The sky was bluer than blue. The ocean air swirled around us, clearing the cobwebs from our snow laden brains. Salt spray filled the air with hope and promise. And laughter.
It felt odd and wonderful to be in this place that was hidden from view for so many months….
…to take in the colors, the textures, the sounds…the details once again exposed.
A few masts bobbed their affirmation, enjoying this view as much as we were.
We were only there for an hour.
But those 60 minutes replenished...
and encouraged, the something that had escaped from me during the long winter.
A true sign that a little time spent reflecting,
can prepare us for a glorious season of
seaglass picking and beach blankets
of sandy toes and dreams for the future….