Last Sunday, I looked out my windows and saw snow everywhere. Maybe not a lot, but it was there. Thanks to the 50-60 degree days we had this week, the snow is gone! I hear different birds chirping, too, and the owl is back. I do not know what type of owl it is, but I love hearing its owl song.
The trees are acting like they are going to bud soon. I look forward to the spring green as they start to unfurl their leaves, and the shade they will provide. My favorite tree is the one in front of my apartment that takes the longest to reveal its buds. It flowers before the leaves come; I think it is a crab cherry tree, but I do not know for sure.
|Source: Kickapoo Orchard|
My favorite warm weather memory is from the summer I was 14. Just a little way up the street from where we were living was a brook, and there was a rock down by the water there that was flat and wide enough to sit on. I loved the sound of the water as it rolled over the rocks - it was so relaxing. That rock was a great place to read or write poetry or make a journal entry.
|Source: Deviant Art|
The spot was natural air conditioning with the trees providing shade and the mountain stream providing cool water. If I got too hot, I could cool down by dangling my feet into the water.
When I was in ninth grade, my Earth Science class walked down from the school to the brook to do an experiment with styrofoam packing peanuts. If I remember correctly, the peanuts were dropped in different places across the stream - along the edges, in the middle, etc. - to see how quickly they would float down to my rock based on where they were placed. Some classmates were there with stopwatches and to collect them as they flowed downstream.
I did not mention that it was my quiet place. I wanted to keep the sanctity and serenity to myself. The rock was below the street enough that cars going past would not see me; I kept quiet when pedestrians or cyclists went by, too, hoping to keep my spot to myself. Even my family did not know where I escaped to, but I was near enough to come if called.
Maybe I can find another rock in another brook this summer. Somewhere to get away to where it would be cool and peaceful, a great place to read, to think, to journal.
Do you have a special place like that? Leave a comment below.