We're out playing ball and riding bikes and picking up sticks and playing amongst the trees again, and it feels so. damn. good. Of course, the past couple of days have been back to cold and rain (and yesterday, hail). It seems we've still got a bit of a haul before spring actually arrives. There is, I suppose, a virtue or life lesson to be gained by these dark months, but it's mostly lost in thoughts of, why not just move someplace warmer?
The only thing I'm having trouble saying goodbye to this winter is my snow-eating obsession. I still haven't quite quit digging cupfuls out of the former snow fort piles -- although I think I've finally reached the end of my reserve.
Cherishing the sun (even if it barely touches our skin) every chance we get. Swinging and running and climbing with a renewed vigor. Exploring places unseen for four months. Eating pink and yellow donuts with peeps on top. These are the first signs of spring -- appearing before anything green arrives.
I haven't appeared in front of the lens lately; this is the closest thing I have to any kind of belly shot, other than an old black and white polaroid.