Hibernate

We live in the best neighborhood out there. In the spring, summer and fall months it's not uncommon to hear the laughter and squeals of a handful of kids on our cul-de-sac. Games of "army" being organized by the boys, the girls with their silver scooters and pink helmets pretending to be either war wives or Hannah Montana (is there a difference?). People are washing their cars, the moms are camped out on my front lawn on my big rainbow quilt enjoying a beverage or three.... Popsicles, fruit leathers, and Capri Suns are passed around. Kids with dirty hands and equally dirty of face run through sprinklers and exclaim, "see I don't need a bath tonight!". Those months are amazing. They make me so grateful for where we live and who we live by.

November- February is rough 'round these parts. We live on the edge of the urban growth boundary in our county. What is peaceful and beautiful in the fair weathered months can be isolating come what winter. Garage doors are down, curtains are drawn and if one listens closely enough, the theme song from Mario Kart can be heard from behind most locked doors. The neighbors wave to one another as we pass each other's cars on the ice lined streets or when we hurriedly drag our garbage pails down to the curb each week for pick up. However that sense of intimacy among friends is frozen during those months - much like the branches of the sweet gum trees that flank our sidewalks.

It's coming right? That thing called spring? I'm encouraged by the longer days and the crocus buds coming up through the hard soil. It's not far off...right? Here's a little tease and encouragement until the real thing comes.