some stray thoughts from a nice afternoon

Well, today we finished putting away all the St. Patrick's decorations here at the Manor; moved firewood around to get it in place and seasoned for next Winter, swept out the carport and did all the things one does in late March. Spring has sprung. For all of my adult life, Autumn has been my favorite season. But in childhood it was Spring and early Summer - from about April Fools Day until the 4th of July. The deadening treadmill of school was over, or almost to be; the old neighborhood would be a parade of color from the dogwoods, azaleas and assorted tulips, daffodils and whatnot; and you could hang out late at night, playing Kleeba (a purely local game from which legends are born) and just hanging out. It meant squirt gun and water balloon fights, going to my old friend Roger's family's country shack on the Potomac, South of Quantico, (back when that really was the country); and the start of vacations - often meaning a trip to my beloved Colorado. It was beautiful long sunsets spent with family and friends, fireworks, cookouts, and going out to my dear friends the Logsdons, to pick strawberries and catch box turtles, (back when Annandale was in the country...). Ice cream cones were big, as were Wham-O toys (I loved the Water Wiggle).

I suppose Autumn is still my fave time, (there is too much Autumnal darkness and decay in the back of my mind to give up on it); but I've noticed in the past few years that Springtime is making something of a comeback for me. I want to go pick some strawberries...