I've been waiting for spring, but it was summer that visited our neck of the woods today.
I woke up early this morning, awakened by a gray sky before the rest of the house was even stirring, and it felt like vacation for some reason. The fog was so thick I couldn't see the neighbor's house, the morning was dark, and I just felt an immense calm and joyfulness. With everyone else still asleep I picked up my book for almost an hour of quiet reading before I heard our door click open and the pattering of feet racing up to Jon's side of the bed, and the day was on.
Jon made breakfast, I played with the new camera, and Calvin danced through the house. It was a late start, but not a lazy one. The boys practiced the piano, we did some straightening, I ran—outside for a change—and while Jon taught, Calvin and I spent the entire afternoon in the sandbox, playing with sand, discussing birds, and listening for sump pumps. He played individually, too, while I read my book again and enjoyed the soft, warm breeze on skin that has felt only layers of clothing for too many months. We were barefoot. We were happy. It was over eighty degrees here today, and brilliantly sunny.
We grilled dinner on the deck and ate it there. We went for an evening hike in the meadow, hoping to find deer, but only finding their tracks. Calvin was so dusted in sand and splattered in mud that he played in the bath before bed, splashing around while I read Oz aloud. I'm still practicing with the new camera, but so far I like what I see.
Old camera (with Nikon f1.8 35mm lens, unedited)...
New camera...(with Nikon f1.8 35mm lens, unedited)
The boy is in bed now, and was asleep before we adults had even made it downstairs I think. I agree with him. The fresh air and sunshine leaves me feeling deliciously worn out and my skin flushed and warm. Tomorrow it is supposed to storm, and if any thunder arrives tonight I'll consider that the perfect cherry on top of our perfect Sunday.