Atop a small park hilltop at the edge of the Maine and New Hampshire border where I hear the ocean meeting rock, birds in the trees and the glide of waves onto a tiny beach below.
Life is happening
On our front steps.
The sun set at 8:30 with a gorgeous periwinkle sky and fluffy pink clouds last Friday. The images were directly in front of my husband and I as we drove down the Interstate. I wish I took a photo but rather, this is the conversation I memorialized:
“The sky is so beautiful! The clouds even look like cotton candy figures.”
My husband’s response was spot on with what I saw, “The large cloud in front of us looks like a lady.”
He went on, “Her hair is blowing behind her.”
I loved that he saw what I saw, “Exactly! She’s bent at the knee, her right arm is behind her and she’s beautiful.”
His retort was as honest as his first two comments, “She has perky boobs too.”
I couldn’t disagree. We were driving right towards that bosom. Their full colorful glory was on the herizon.
I was in all my glory this morning when I saw my flowers starting to rise from the dirt. I look forward to watching the colorful morning glories grow on our front steps and up our mailbox post. I never thought I’d enjoy gardening but that’s where I’ve been before sundown each night.
I am still lucky enough to spend the day before Mother’s Day with my Mom. I brought her a flower centerpiece, a balloon and an offer to drive her to the local church thrift store.
Hours are every Saturday morning, rain or shine. The weather was overcast and the sky was ready to open up at any moment. The bargain basement is only a few miles away but there’s a long desolate road in the middle called “the strip”.
Halfway to the thrift, we see a man walking along the strip. I beep at him which scares my mother to death. I wave with a smile and my mother doesn’t comprehend such behavior.
“You know him!?”, she finally asks after getting back into her own skin.
“No. I guess I’m like Dad. It was a friendly impulse.”
My mother says more than she does on most trips. She lets out a long, exasperated, disagreeing sigh.
I respond accordingly, “Maybe we should go back and ask if he needs a ride?”
My sweet mother about chokes, shifts in her seat and I can feel her evil eye as I smirk into the windshield. Even though she’s 86, I still love to get her ire up. I am a good daughter but the instigator of the family.
I think I’m funny. My mother does not. At all. Although she was lucky enough to spend a day with me.
Groggily I woke and stumbled across the hall to the bathroom.
I pulled down my pants, looked out the window and got mooned.
I let out a sigh of both happiness and relief.
After an extremely long, cold, snowy winter…
– only briefly interrupted by a windy spring day of temperatures reaching 70 degrees …
– followed by a very wet 30 degree snowstorm of morning commute slush …
This evening our neighborhood men finally reached their winter weather breaking point! Their frustration is clearly visible along our property. The road looks like all the area snowmen threw up!
I went to visit a friend in an assisted living facility today and decided to park in the garage. I observed this scene while waiting for the elevator. Evidently, facilities needs assistance living with the rules.
I prayed you rose in the arms of a dream,
so vivid –
you can fly beyond imagination.
No words are spoken
but there’s comfort in the night –
Photo credit: Pinterest