Easter Wednesday

Spring has barely arrived, and I find myself impatient for Summer.

Isn't that always the way in the heavenly experiment known as "the human enterprise"?

When I look outside my window here on Rehoboth Bay, one might think summer had already arrived. The sun is shining brightly, glistening on the ripples of the water.

The gulls and snowy white egrets are emerging from their nests to hunt for baby fish, while the blue heron march in regal procession around the marsh like ancient aristocratic heirs of all they survey.

The ducks are blissfully paddling their way along the deck of our house, sounding their orders for stale bread, please.

Coming right up, sirs.

One step out the door and reality hit full force. The thermometer may have read 57 degrees, but the wind-chill factor tells a very different story.

BURRRRR!! I was completely unprepared for the chill.

Then again, it was 6 AM and my head was a little fuzzy from that second glass of wine I had after dinner. I knew I shouldn't have had it, but I was far away from the disapproving glare Ms. Conroy would have given me, and, like the mice who play when the cat is away, I savored it deeply all the while knowing that I would pay for it in the morning.

I put on my sweats and sneakers, bundled into my coat, grabbed my mug of coffee and was out the door to walk the ocean. It's a special treat in the early morning hours. Just a few brave souls who delight in the surf and sand at any time of the year. It cleared the cobwebs from my head and restored my soul.

On my way home, I stopped for breakfast at the local diner, 'The Skillet' in time to hear all the news as well as the gossip about the widowers Mrs. Langford and Mr. Hollis who have been spending a great deal of time together lately. Someone said they were dancing pretty close to each other at the VFW dance last Saturday night. Someone else was quite certain they saw his car parked in front of her house later that night.

Such as scandal. What must they be thinking? I mean, both are in their upper 70s. The waitress just smiled and, as she poured another cuppa joe for one of her patrons, offered this bit of gap-tooth, over-permed damaged hair wisdom, "There's none so foolish as the young at heart."

The picture above and this one to your right are part of a collection of "Beach Ladies" we have around the house. Ms. Conroy bought this one for me and I bought the one above for her. We have others, scattered around the house that we've picked up over the years.

They never cease to make us chuckle, reminding us as they do of some of the many joys of summer. Whether it's the threat of autumn, the dead of winter or the promise of spring, the Beach Ladies remind us of the beauty of summer - a time for leisurely thoughts and carefree sass, treasuring the illusion that it will always be like this, an endless summer.

I suppose it was good that Jesus was resurrected on the third day, being the first day of the week, but I honestly can't imagine having waited that long.

It's only the fifth day of spring and I can't hardly sit still waiting for summer.

Like the mystery of our faith - Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again - so will summer.

It has been promised. It's just that, on days like these, it's hard to wait.

Or, to quote the world-weary waitress at The Skillet, "There's none so foolish as the young at heart."

I suspect Jesus knew that, which is why those who love the Lord of Life - even Mrs. Langford and Mr. Hollis who are finding love in their 70s - have always been willing to be fools for Christ's sake.