Another Spring with hot, sunny days during the week and cold, dreary, rainy days on the weekend. I had to turn on my heat twice already in the last fifteen hours. I mean, just for a few minutes, but still.
It doesn't help that I'm fighting off a persistent viral infection. Nothing major. It's more of an annoying mosquito than killer bee. But it sure would feel good to sit on the porch and soak up some sun.
Not today.
Sure, I've been to the beach already . . . to stop and take pictures while the Arctic wind beat against my entire winter-clothed body. I'm ready, though. The beach chairs are in the car.
So is my kayak. I love my kayak, but the thing is a royal pain to haul around. It breaks in half, so it's transportable via sedan, but it is hefty and has no handles for carrying. As a vertically-challenged person with small hands that cannot even stretch to reach an octave, I look like an Oompah-Loompah trying to move the thing. Living on the second floor also means I can't just take the kayak out and put it back into my car at my leisure. It has to be a highly-skilled, well-coordinated event.
I can feel the beach. I can sense the beach. Every hour my lighthouse-themed clock reminds me with a fog-horn sound to think about the beach. My living room has beach artwork. I need the beach sand between my toes.
Until then, I will have to get by with chilly, damp days, and I will try to keep my head down and off administrative radar (I laugh just typing that - I'm always in trouble). Maybe I'll fight traffic one day after school to catch an hour or two on the beach instead of correcting papers since the weather only cooperates when I'm preoccupied.
Come on, summer. Lend these Spring weekends a handful of your better days. Think of it as a Mothers' (Nature) Day gift.
