I wasn’t much for outdoor things growing up. In the Dallas area there were 2 seasons, dead and unreasonably cold and dead and miserably hot. The alive and thriving days of spring happened when I was asleep, I’m convinced of that and I didn’t even know fall was much more than Halloween and Thanksgiving until I was older and Starbucks introduced me to pumpkin spiced lattes and all of a sudden I realized some places had this thing called “autumn”. Austin happened in the blink of an eye and my time spent in Arkansas was avoiding the humidity and bugs that summer brought and the winter days were spent in an office only to venture home after the sun clocked out for the day.
Maybe it’s being older and wiser or maybe it’s landing in a nice, temperate climate packed year beginning to year end with mild, unobtuse seasons, but I’ve find myself pining for time outdoors once that thermometer starts to creep above 50.
We’ve had a pile of leaves that moved into our side yard sometime last fall and hasn’t moved out yet so we decided to serve the eviction notice on Saturday. That pile of freeloaders turned into almost 3 hours of yard work. Leaves were raked, weeds were pulled, grass was mowed, plants were trimmed, porches were swept and two 40 year old pandemic bodies were put to the test. For the first time since the windstorm and wildfires last August/September, our outdoor space looked like somewhere you could spend a few hours.
And that’s where I found myself Saturday evening.
Like every spring since we moved into this place, I situated myself into one of our oversized patio chairs we hauled up here from Arkansas, thick socks on my feet and those sweat pants I blogged about last week to keep me warm (this is Oregon after all, it’s still quite cold at night) and what seemed like hours drifted by. The stage is set slightly different each year as the herb garden ages, drinks in hand change as our taste buds mature, the food cooking on the grill is different this year than it was when we were younger and less responsible with what we ate and the music that kisses our ears changes as our collection grows…
but two things remain the same season after season…
time is relative and the company is always fantastic.
Spring, I’m so glad you’re here. Let’s really get to know each other this time around.
IdyllHands 