Yesterday I didn't need my winter coat or my mittens for my walk in the woods. Brilliant green mosses shone from tree stumps and old logs, the only green I could see, unless you count the ferns, who stay green all winter but just flatten themselves under the snow. I hadn't gone very far when the rain began, first a gentle warm rain, and then a sudden downpour.
The familiar rhythm of raindrops on the hood of my raincoat made me think of camp. Now that the winter is over, we'll be back up on the river again soon, eating and sleeping under the oak trees, going out to the islands to swim.
How wonderful it felt to walk in the rain and yet feel warm, without the chill I've felt all winter long. I stomped my tall, green boots through puddles and admired the way the rain made the mosses look even brighter. All around me the rain came pouring down, washing away the very last of the snow and filling the air with the smell of new mud.
An afternoon visit to the urologist with my husband brought good news: he's healing fast now. Boy in Black came home mid-afternoon to play frisbee in the backyard with his brothers. When I asked him how his classes were going, he said with a grin, "I'm worried that my schoolwork is interfering with my Ultimate Frisbee playing."
It was lateafternoon when the three boys came in, soaked and muddy. Shaggy Hair Boy said, "Hey, Mom. Those tree frogs you like .... they're out."
I pulled open the window and heard them, that unmistakable sound. The peepers were singing. It's spring.