Finding the Sun.


Catching a spring fever (literally) during the warmest weekend of the season thus far is a bit of a bummer. Especially when you're seven. Sage has been in bed or asleep on the couch since Friday afternoon. Yesterday he finally found his way out into the unseasonably warm sunshine. His fever had broken and he was ready for some sun on his cheeks.

We all wandered outside. The cat, the dog, the girl, the boy, the mama, the papa.


Spike found a perch on the last of our woodpile, Jasper snuffled for sign of other dogs, Lupine headed for the garden with me and Sage lay down in the sun. Pete pretended to go back inside to work but I saw his face in the sun a few more times before lunch. None of us wanted to ever come in.

When Sage finally wandered inside he said with a relaxed sigh, "The sun for me is like catnip for a cat."

(Or on a day like today, sunshine for a cat).


So back outside we went. For a picnic. For some planting (Lupine put herself in charge of the beans). For some clean up. It is so very brown out there, and yet so perched on explosive spring green. I can sense it, feel it, smell it, imagine it. It's coming.


And until it does, we'll keep at it. The clean up, the planting, the picnics. Soon enough the asparagus, spinach, and radishes will be springing up brightly, along with our spirits.