I do so love these spring weekends, the ones nestled between each of the last few weeks of school, when the busyness is beginning to ease, just a bit. When the air is warmer, and the world is turning green again. When from one weekend to the next, or even within the same weekend, the extremes come closely together, heat and chill, a strange dryness and then flooding rains, even busyness and open hours of play. Old toys are rediscovered in the barn, and foraging in the yard reveals new treasures unearthed by both the heaving frost and thawing erosion on the river bank.
Windows are thrust open, and then slammed shut when an intense thunderstorm rumbles through. And then opened again, the returning sun sought out and shining through ears.
The river rushes full of snow melt, then gets low and quiet during seemingly endless weeks of heat and no rain, and then floods again from days of heavy downpours.
And weekend reminders that reflect the weekday events and ends and beginnings, reminders of just how quickly things shift, that a weekend can go from hot, water-play worthy, to cool and rainy and lush. Friends come and laugh and screech and strategize and run through every nook and cranny of the yard. And then run inside shivering, jolted by the chill as soon as the sun dips down.
Whatever adventures to old and favorite places, as well as to places new and unplanned, we know these will also come along with the mishaps and diversions and laughter our escapades may bring.