"On that first morning when the sky was blue again Mary wakened very early. The sun was pouring in slanting rays through the blinds and there was something so joyous in the sight of it that she jumped out of bed and ran to the window itself and a great waft of fresh, scented air blew in upon her. The moor was blue and the whole world looked as if something Magic had happened to it. There were tender little fluting sounds here and there and everywhere, as if scores of birds were beginning to tune up for a concert. Mary put her hand out of the window and held it in the sun.
'It's warm -- warm!' she said. 'It will make the green points push up and up and up, and it will make the bulbs and roots work and struggle with all their might under the earth.'" from The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
Assuming the weather forecast is correct, this will be everyone in the household this morning. Well, minus the moor, of course. You can't have everything. The end of winter, especially one that is an overstaying guest, can be more than a slog, but there is something magical about the first truly warm day. The contrast between the bitter cold and the warm sunshine with birds singing and tress budding out is so great and so wonderful that it is almost worth the wait to get to it. It's easy to take warmth for granted when you live in a place where it is warm nearly all year long, such as where I grew up. But then you don't experience the great and overpowering joy of actually feeling warmth when you step outside.
So today, we will spend out of doors. Some people are happily planning on doing more math outside, while others are happily planning on avoiding it in favor of doing other outdoorsy things. I'm hoping to get in a bit of gardening and maybe clearing out around another of our very overgrown trees.
And as to the forecast for Sunday night...
Well, La la la la la la la... What? I can't hear you... La la la la la la la
I have a new article published: Adoption Parenting and Secondary Trauma