Spring is hanging onto the Pacific Northwest with the tenacity of a toddler clinging to an ice cream cone. She’s giddy to be in control of our region, and she will scream, cry and rage at anyone who tries to take it away from her.
I know, I know.
I have to take the good with the bad.
And I’m grateful for the good. I swear. Spring brought my dogwood tree to life, and I love her for it.
Aw. Isn’t she sweet and precious?
Unfortunately, I always think that Little Miss Spring might benefit from seeing my counselor for a little mood modulation, play therapy or good old-fashioned medication. ‘Cause when she raises her cold, cloudy, rain-filled fist…
…well, she’s still beautiful. But yikes!
I hide inside until Spring’s fury is spent. And I wonder, when is her bedtime? ‘Cause this season has got to be exhausted from raging this long and this hard.
Thankfully, every once in a while, Summer checks in with us just to make sure we’re still here. He pokes his head into our boiling, roiling mess of a season, and I cry, grab on to his pant leg, and beg him not to leave.
We had a few glimpses of Summer this weekend.
He brought friends, loads of kids, bar-b-ques, late night neighborhood s’mores, and water balloons.
Summer really is the favorite uncle. I can tell by the way he lets kids stay up late and hang out on the playhouse roof.
And, of course, the number one sign that Summer came for a weekend visit:
Now, really, this happens year-round at our house. But this is the Full-on Summer Birthday Suit Edition. (Winter Snow Gear Edition can be a real bear.) And I’d like to thank Summer for making it possible.
Thanks for the visit, Summer. I hope to see more of you very, very soon.