It's 72 degrees at the moment and there's a lovely breeze coming off Rehoboth Bay which doesn't lose an ounce of strength once it reaches the marshes of Long Neck.
It's March, after all.
I've also opened the sliding glass door - the new sliding glass door - the one that was installed when the new windows were put in - and the cross-breeze is wonderful.
The old windows were Very Old and so difficult to open I rarely did. The new windows glide open so easily it's a real joy to my heart. I think I spent the first five minutes after they were installed just opening and closing them, and then opening and closing them again.
The pups LOVE the new deck. We tore down the sun room and discovered that it was built on what must have been the original deck, so now we have a deck that runs almost the whole length of the back end of the house.
Mr. Theo is the undeniable "harbor master" here. He checks out all the boats as they go by - and there are quite a few in the water already. One of our neighbors already has his boat back in the water. I'm thinking his family will be here for Easter Day and won't it be lovely to take everyone for a ride on the Bay? I'm just a tad green with envy.
Ms. CoCo checks out all the water fowl in the marshes. There are a pair of Canada Geese who have taken up residence nearby and swim past the house several times a day. I was just out on the deck with the pups when the geese came by. Ms. CoCo started barking at them. The male picked up his head, looked her square in the eye, and HONKED! Poor Ms. CoCo jumped back, startled by the sound. No one talks back to Ms. CoCo. Not nobody, not nohow. She was properly flummoxed. Made me giggle.
And, sweet, dear Mr. Lenny - who takes "the short bus to school" - just finds a sunny place on the deck, stretches himself out as long as he can, and then wonders why his sister and brother waste so much energy doing "border patrol" along the deck.
When they all settle down, I can see each one of them loving the warmth of the sun and relishing the breeze as it blows the fur on their little faces.
It's such a simple thing, really, but I so enjoy the fresh breezes of the first few days of Spring. I love everything about it. The smell of it. The feel of it. The way it caresses my face and pulls at my clothing.
|Spring Breeze - KL Bailey|
This afternoon, as I took the pups for a walk up the top of the street to get the mail, I happened to notice a small cluster of old, dry leaves that had been caught under a downspout on the housing that covers the mailboxes.
The wind had been playing with it, gently loosening the grip of the winter's snow which had pushed it there. The sound of crackling dry leaves brought it to my attention.
I watched for a few minutes as the wind shook the downspout, causing a few of the dead leaves on the outside of the cluster to loosen and break away. Then, suddenly, the whole clump broke free and scattered and skipped here and there, some down and others across the street. A small group of dry leaves clung together, forming a little 'eddy' in the street - a rip tide current of old, dead things being thrown out into new life.
They are needed elsewhere, to provide fertilizer to the new seedlings that are pushing their bruised heads up through the softening, moist ground. There are jonquils and daffodils in full bloom everywhere while the tulips are working hard to catch up. The forsythia are in yellow riot gear all around the edges of the road. The cherry trees are struggling to open their buds and blossom, only to be blown away in the breeze.
It is absolutely glorious!
I think our lives are like that. We have a tenacious hold on things we no longer need - things which are dry and dead and rotting but which have been pushed and tucked by the discontents of our winter into safe corners in the downspouts of our lives.
Sometimes, we simply need to let the winds blow them away so we can make room for new life. New colors. New sounds. New smells. New ideas. New life.
It's March, after all.
Time to let the March winds and Spring breezes do their work.
Time to get ready for the dry, dead leaves of Holy Week to be set free that we might be blown, heart-first, into the swirling eddy of new life that is the resurrection of Easter.