I need sunlight. On more than a few occasions this long, long, looooooong winter, I have marched myself straight into the laundry room and plunked myself down on the floor with a book and a cup of tea. It is the warmest, sunniest room in this entire house.
The window is smeared with Poppy’s nose marks. And there is a bit of her hair on the floor. She likes this room, too. Sometimes she sleeps in the laundry basket, sometimes on the rag rug. Sometimes she stretches out behind the door so that it is nearly closed, and she can’t get out.
I have a bag of chocolate eggs hidden in here. When The Four were younger, when I was younger, I would hide in here with chocolate. I needed chocolate then. Now, it is sunshine I need.
From my spot on the floor I sit with my eyes closed and my face turned to the sun pouring through the window. There are chickadees perched in the redbud outside my window. Soon flowers and tiny, tender leaves will emerge from that little tree’s bulging branches. The days are growing longer, even if spring is taking it’s sweet time. But it doesn’t look terribly warm. It isn’t actually terribly warm.
I am sincerely tired of pulling on thick, wool socks over my dry scratchy heels. My little feet are screaming for sunshine and sand and heck, they’d even settle for chlorinated water and burning hot pavement over the feeling of another suffocating sock. I watched a show about Norway this week. I could never live in Norway. How do people live with their bodies bundled up, hidden from the sun forever?
I saw Ella’s teeny little buns today when she was dressing for school, and last night, William’s bare arms. I am moved by the sight of them. I am buoyed by the scent of them, the pattern of their freckles, the whorls of downy hair on their backs. I miss seeing the sun’s highlights in their hair, and their sunburned noses and shoulders. I miss smelling their outdoor smell. I could fill up the internets with all that I miss… I always think the threat of a long harsh winter sounds fun what with the hot cocoa and all, but then it actually happens.
I went into the yard yesterday to check on my gardens. There was not much to see. I reminded myself that it is just early March. And from where I sit, it still looks a heck of a lot like winter.
“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.” ~Charles Dickens, Great Expectations