Remember that saying from elementary school? It goes along with the letter people, cartons of chocolate milk and carrot sticks, impossibly tall steps to climb on to the bus and praying I would never have to go to the bathroom. That's what I remember from my first school, 1st-3rd grade.
But here we are on March 1st and it is perfectly blustery and cold and damp. The rain is coming in sprinkles, shoved around by the east wind. It's landing on soft, mushy, long grass waist deep in mud. Every once in a while I smell something like dill.
I've been walking uphill lately and for the last week there has been a stream of water coming down the street.
I keep forgetting my coat.
David hasn't worn jeans to school for a week and a half.
Corinne doesn't mind walking to rehearsal.
Ben's glove was found in the back yard.
The stupor has gone, the misty vision lifted, the weights of the world sluffing off, I run a little faster, I climb a little quicker, I'm more sure of myself and less worried. It's easier to love and faster to forgive.
I find myself thinking about the ocean and that beautiful road that climbs over the Sierras.
Do you know what this means?
It's March. It's spring. I'm glad.
Thank you winter for reminding me how blessed I am that the snow melts, the cold wind blows briefly, the birds fly back, the flowers only sleep, the leaves were right there all along, and the sun was just on holiday.
I am still loved, still blessed, still adored.
