This spring has been a season of firsts for us here.
For many, many (did I say ‘many’?) years, we were trapped in the grips of school and sports schedules, every Mother’s Day that I can remember included either a carnation or a rose delivered by smiling boys running toward the crowd at the end of a soccer match.
Then, last June, it happened.
We moved to Maine full-time and, even if we wanted to, we had no ‘back home’ calling us back for kids’ stuff, or meetings, or funny smells or sounds heard by not-so-random octogenarians uncomfortable with tracking down said odors and/or creeks on their own.
We moved at the very beginning of June, which means there are about fourteen days to tick off the calendar before we celebrate our one year Maine-a-versary.
In the winters here, cold air travels across the warmer ocean waters manifesting very cool magic, in the form of sea smoke…
But then, as the air begins to warm (and after the waters cool (which is wicked relative here because the water is always cold enough to numb feet and bodies – or kill you (depending)))… anyway, when the air begins to warm in spring, the sea smoke retreats and the more traditional fog returns.
Carefully, at first.
A wHisp here.
A veil there.
And then, perhaps, a careful finger extended to gently test the waters…
Soon it will become comfortable showing up, through the late spring, and then summer, and early fall.
Ebbing and flowing…
Staying or going.
Riding, with haunting beauty, through time and air.
Happy spring :))
Thanks for readin’.
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