Days like this one are rare gifts, straight from the storage bins of beautiful earthly surprises. May it be duly noted that today, we move on. The winter crazies are finished. Oh, Ed will remind me that we may still get a snowstorm in a week or two or three, but it doesn't matter. We have crossed the border into spring territory. We are safe from the biting, gripping, threatening clutch of winter.
I open many windows at the farmhouse to breathe in the fresh air.
(Ed closes them behind my back: to him, bringing in cold air while you still have your thermostat set to warm air makes no sense. He was not raised in Poland, where the command to "wywietrzyc" a house, a classroom, any interior -- meaning to let fresh in and chase stale air out -- is as common as washing your undies on a regular basis.)
Breakfast. Almost celebratory!
The forecast calls for sunshine only in the morning and so we seize the moment! It's already 40F (4.5C). Good enough!
No, better than good: it is transformative!
We go to the Brooklyn Wildlife Area -- our favorite place for short hikes (though we enter at a different point, so we're not really boring old repetitive people!).
There is still plenty of snow around us, but it is wet snow. Walkable snow. None of this slippery ice stuff I worried about.
The sun rays play tag with forest trees, the breeze is gentle and kind.
We reach the first bench perched on a low hill and we pause there for a few minutes, faces upturned, as if on a mountain top in a fabulous ski resort, only without the people, without the fuss...
We continue along toward our favorite bench, you know, the one with the beautiful view toward the wetlands, the farmlands -- all of it bursting with that magical feel of spring.
It is the most perfect first hike, celebrating the coming of spring.
The rest of the day pales by comparison. We trim crab apple trees. I open windows, Ed closes them. Dinner is just the two of us -- kids are with other grandparents today. I do hope they, indeed, everyone in Wisconsin, had a chance to take a big whiff of that heavenly earthy early March air! Sublime!
I open many windows at the farmhouse to breathe in the fresh air.
(Ed closes them behind my back: to him, bringing in cold air while you still have your thermostat set to warm air makes no sense. He was not raised in Poland, where the command to "wywietrzyc" a house, a classroom, any interior -- meaning to let fresh in and chase stale air out -- is as common as washing your undies on a regular basis.)
Breakfast. Almost celebratory!
The forecast calls for sunshine only in the morning and so we seize the moment! It's already 40F (4.5C). Good enough!
No, better than good: it is transformative!
We go to the Brooklyn Wildlife Area -- our favorite place for short hikes (though we enter at a different point, so we're not really boring old repetitive people!).
There is still plenty of snow around us, but it is wet snow. Walkable snow. None of this slippery ice stuff I worried about.
The sun rays play tag with forest trees, the breeze is gentle and kind.
We reach the first bench perched on a low hill and we pause there for a few minutes, faces upturned, as if on a mountain top in a fabulous ski resort, only without the people, without the fuss...
We continue along toward our favorite bench, you know, the one with the beautiful view toward the wetlands, the farmlands -- all of it bursting with that magical feel of spring.
It is the most perfect first hike, celebrating the coming of spring.
The rest of the day pales by comparison. We trim crab apple trees. I open windows, Ed closes them. Dinner is just the two of us -- kids are with other grandparents today. I do hope they, indeed, everyone in Wisconsin, had a chance to take a big whiff of that heavenly earthy early March air! Sublime!
