I’m thinking green grass, flowers and kites are not far away. Dreams are thawing, imagining what all we can do with that.
I’m looking forward to grubbing in the mud and ruining my fingernails and kneecaps. I’ll fight those weeds mercilessly so my perennials have half a chance.
I’ll go to the Assiniboine English Gardens and load my new camera up with photos. Then I’ll stroll around downtown Winnipeg doing the same, capturing those amazing architectural details on the old buildings. They just don’t build them like that anymore.
I’ll sleep with the windows open, and every night before bed, stand on the deck cooling my toes while staring at the stars. Because I live in the country, the stars are bold and beautiful, easily seen without city lights to outshine them.
naked (did I just say that out loud?) in the rain all around the storm sky-ed yard. And I’ll find the highest swing I can and spend a few hours on it while little children laugh and point.
There’s just something so freeing about swinging high. Almost like having wings. And it is not just physically freeing. I love the feeling of wild abandon, like I’m leaving my cares and grown-up worries on that patch of mud that my feet wear in the grass below the swing.