Last Saturday I dallied in the revelry of a gorgeous spring day - the first warm sunny day here in New England in as long as I can remember. Our never-ending drizzly, rainy, cold weather had me starting to wonder if I had moved to Seattle or London. (Please forgive me my friends who live in these two places!) To finally receive a day of warmth and sunshine was cherished all the more for its absence of late.
As the sun set, I snapped a few photos around my house and in the yard and then set off for a sunset walk in the neighborhood. The breeze still felt warm, the sky was pretty in pink, the birds were chirping a loud chorus - in happiness it seemed for this rare taste of true spring. By the time I came back home, the birds were quiet, a hush of stillness in its place - night had fallen.
The night before I watched fireworks out my kitchen window with delight. I found out afterwards that they were shot off at McCoy Stadium where the minor league team plays baseball. I wrote the following poem as I bundled up with words my immense satisfaction.
Arrival Last night I heard the fireworks thunder before I found them peaking on tiptoe over the kitchen curtain tinsel and confetti flowers in the sky roof tops and bare branches framing their exclamation I held the magic of dusk floating between my fingertips while birds erupted in a finale of gladness for gentle spring breezes before night fell and the Sun smoothed the edges of its crimson sky sleeve I felt the taffy pull of sweetness inside my heartbeat before my Lord's sacred Footfall Forgiveness arrival saved my fettered life Sharani