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Is there anything more glorious than taking in a shoreline sunset by sea? Island Girl and I are on a boat courtesy of a very nice guy who offers us an impromptu ride. I swear the best things happen when you don’t make plans. I hadn’t planned to go out at all. I certainly hadn’t planned to be on a boat. But here I am gazing at a salmon-colored sky as we slip lightly through the water.
There are times when life stretches out on top of you like a big thundercloud. Damp, heavy, smothering. There’s an illness in my extended family and we’re all heartbroken. In the midst of this, my brother comes to visit with his wife and kids. This is a good thing. A really good thing.
Ah, the annual rites of spring. My favorite rite is hearing the peepers call from the swamps. When I hear them for the first time, I roll down my car window, slow down, and take a deep breath as I listen. Relief. No matter what happens now, winter is over.
I’ve always had a fascination with dive bars. I don’t mean your slightly run-down neighborhood brew pub, either. I’m talking brown fiberboard paneling, dust buffalos lurking in the corners, and PBR the same temperature as water straight from the tap. I’m talking one lonely neon beer sign in the window with half the letters blown out.
I know I’m not alone in thinking this. As I walk in the air that smells of spring, I keep thinking how this is this the oddest Christmas season in memory. No snow. No Jack Frost painting the window panes. No woolly mittens or snuggly scarves. It seems that Heat Miser from that old Rankin-Bass Christmas special took over and won’t let go.