Same as It Ever Was

faded

Spring comes late around here.

Last week it was 50 degrees and drizzling.

I was starting to regret my decision to put my parka away for the season as I sat on the damp bleachers of the misty Little League field.

The next game I went to I had short sleeves, sandals and was worrying about getting a sunburn.

My favorite part of the late Spring is the green.

Sometimes you don't know how much you miss something until it comes back.

The color of the new leaves and grass are so bright it hurts my eyes.

This weekend my tired, grey little town was full of people and traffic and cookouts and noise.

It happens every year.

It is still a surprise, just when you think it will never come it does.

Makes me realize that the same old can be new again.

And so can I.

Out Like a Lion

swamp

A week ago it was 70 (F.) degrees out. 

Today it is in the 30s.

So naturally I am thinking of hot, sticky summer days.

I was lucky to grow up before the influx of Lyme disease. The forest was our playground.

We had acres of woods back behind the house with a brook running through it. It was a great place for the whole neighborhood to congregate. We were hidden from our parents kitchen window view by the thick cover of foliage. 

Mom would say, "Stay within shouting distance." and we were free.

As much fun as it was creating our own Lord of the Flies like existence out there, I liked to go there alone.

Down by the brook was such a peaceful place. 

The always cold brook water and tall oak's canopy made it a cool sanctuary on the hottest days.