"She refused to be bored, chiefly because she wasn't boring." Zelda Fitzgerald

Monday, March 8, 2010

Fresh Air + Sunshine = A New Kind of Mania

Downstairs on the counter I have five altaulfo mangoes, sitting in the sunshine on the countertop, just waiting for me to make the coconut sticky rice pudding I was to dice them over (Thank you, Chinatown!). The sun is pouring in on the solarium floor and frankly, overheating the place. So much warmth and brightness all of a sudden. We played outside this weekend, stirring things in the garden, tossing our jackets on the wicker bench seat and pushing the strollers through Chinatown and the maze of trails in Central Park, frankly kind of dizzy from the sunshine and fresh air.

There are many little things that are lovely about New York City but, one of them is the fact that its always a little warmer there than it is here (this bonus only applies in the cooler months...not in July) and  there is little that is more festive than all the city shop doors propped open in the sun and teens squinting into the sun while they wait for the light, snapping their gum, no coats at all...just ballet flats, leggings and a pashmina...the ever ready NYC accessory. Such a wonderful stroll through town. We had a lot of fun visiting with A's fabulous Rainforest Adventuring Cousin too...who wouldn't love her? She enjoys great food, long walks, sticky kid hugs, and rambunctious dogs. How much better do people get?

All weekend, every time dusk hit and the sky turned to the color of the inside of an oyster shell, the boys and I would spot the silhouettes of ducks whisking past through the trees, over the horizon going north, north, north. Seemed like they were always in a hurry, not much left between them and spring nesting now...just a little push of the wing further on. Every night after the sun sank, we'd see them again, working their way north in packs, heading off to those of you in cooler climes. They're on their way! And spring is coming too! May there be many ducklings in your neighborhood ponds.

Its the time of year when children lose their shoes outdoors, jackets get left hung on fence-posts and mud is everywhere (Ru insists that the neighbors have a better yard because they have more of it) and I'm smelling, looking, hoping for the sight of some new green thing. The snowdrops are blooming and the skunk cabbage is seductively raising its mottled maroon cups through the leaves, all through the swamp.

I'm starting to get the itch to finish up my inside organization because I can feel that there won't be much more indoor energy left in me once the forsythia is blooming and the pussy willow is exploding poofs of chick fuzz over the back deck. My indoor time is waning and I can feel it dripping away from me, ever swiftly.


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