Nearly Perfect

Some days are nearly perfect. Mine has been filled with sunlight, laughter, yoga, warm walks, puppies, snow drops, ideas, sidewalk chalk, freeze tag, scooters, bees and margaritas and converstaion on the deck.

I spent the day trying to figure out how I could start a community movie theater... marveled at the first feisty bee the swarmed my head while Cate screamed, "I hate bugs! I just hate them!" Played a round of freeze tag after Alex bolted from the bus shouting, "We didn't have to wear our mittens or hats to recess today!" And took to the yard with my coatless kids.

My budding gardener stopped by the side of the house to assess the spouting of the crocuses. We stomped down the muddy hill to the herb garden... delighted when we discovered thyme already growing and fragrant, rejoiced when we pushed the withered leaves aside and discovered tiny mint leaves, strong and pungent.

I laughed at Cate, dressed in line green pants and fuchsia shirt, looking like a flower. Felt silently content as we closed our eyes and listened, really listened, so we could hear the melting snow running under the earth, down the hill to the now raging creek, the creek finally free of its icy encasement. I laughed as Alex, the boy who is in so many ways, all me, told us to find a tree stump and sit down, lay back if we could, face the sun, close our eyes and say, "Ahh..." My heart sighed with that mother's sigh as he abandon his Adirondack chair and said, "Mommy! You have to sit here with your eyes closed! You are going to love it. It feels like a powerful laser beam is hitting your face and making you happy!" We laughed as Milo the cat raced like a crazy dog all about the yard, following Alex, racing up trees, chasing every leaf and bug that skittered across the yard.

We stayed outside as long as we could, until the sun set behind the trees and the breeze whispered, "It's still winter. It's still winter." And we went inside... everyone alive with possibility.