March 11: Patch of Sun

Spring was in the air and in the quality of the sunlight as my husband and I walked up Beech Hill in Rockport. We saw pussy willows along the muddy trail, and although we saw no sign of the bluebirds that have been hanging out up there the past few days, we did hear many chickadees singing their courtship songs in the alders. I noticed too that the alders, birches, and other small trees visible at a distance in the lower fields are shifting hue as they begin to bud out. The sun felt good on my pale face.

Upon returning home, I wanted to continue to feel the warmth of the day's sun on my body, but our house, bounded as it is by a mountain on one side and many trees on the other, doesn't let in a lot of light. The air still carries enough of winter's chill that hanging outside on the back porch to soak up the last rays of afternoon's sunlight, isn't yet an option. So instead I found myself literally crawling around on the floor trying to find one sunny patch in which to read a book. I ended up in the hall next to the laundry room, light falling across my legs for a brief half hour. My husband gave me an odd look when he found me there. It wasn't even enough light to entice the cat.

The cat too disdains
my tiny patch of precious
early spring sunshine.