The sun shines, the sky is blue. I’m sitting on my deck, enjoying the day’s warmth, and I’m so happy to be home, I could dance a jig.
This winter was harsh: cold winds, frigid temps, and by mid-March, I was ready to leave on our annual getaway to a warmer climate. Nothing unusual about that. Millions of retirees flee south, and warmer parts of the country are inundated in the winter by “snowbirds,” refugees from the cold.
For a month, I enjoyed the greening vistas, chirping birds and warmer weather of the Ozarks, not to mention the wonderful southern food. Then home beckoned.
Here I am, home in time for Mother’s Day and the Minnesota walleye fishing opening; home in time to see the local businesses gear up in preparation for summer visitors, in time to see the ice go out on Devil Track Lake (hopefully by the time this goes to print), home in time for the Donut Shop’s opening.
All the signs of spring join forces; peepers chirp from ponds, an occasional duck flies over the lake, the sound of snowmobile engines at the far end of the lake tells me the “water skipping” tradition still continues. I savor the light of lengthening days that lets me take long walks on the South Shore Drive after dinner. I bask in the vibrant lavender pink sunsets reflecting on the lake’s surface.
Being able to watch Twins’ baseball games instead of the Cardinals or the Royals makes me happy.
Home isn’t perfect. The light streaming through the windows highlights the fact that I need to find Windex and fast. Last year’s dead flower stalks glare at me from the garden. They should be resting in the compost pile. The deck railing needs painting, and the loons haven’t returned with their beautiful call – yet.
Tomorrow’s weather forecast predicts rain and much colder temperatures. I don’t care. I’m home, and there’s no place like it.
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