It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood.
My husband sometimes writes emails to family detailing bits of his/our life. Most often, these emails tell stories of our travels and vacations. Here's an excerpt from an email he sent out last night that I read this morning.
"Wow. Today was really lovely, a day to justify and redeem the too-easy stereotype of spring from the picture books and bulletin boards of childhood. The flowers on the redbud outside the front door, on every bit of the plant, are fully open this evening, shockingly beautiful even in the glare of my headlamp when I went out to close the door to the chicken barn. I mowed for the first time this year today, a sure sign that the peak of spring has arrived and that summer-like conditions will descend on us in a few minutes - with heat, mosquitoes and an end to the day-to-day change that makes fall and spring interesting and hard to pigeon-hole fairly.
Mowing also meant spending too much of the day laying on the concrete under the mower, wearing hearing protectors and squinting at the sparks from the grinder in the basement, reloading the grease gun, looking for tools I haven't needed for months, etc.... But, the two hours actually spent on the tractor were sublime. So many things are blooming or preparing to bloom. The mower cut the grass and all the other plants, each succulent after so much rain, and spread the delicious complicated salad smell in the air so strongly that the tractor's own fumes were lost in it all. Even the smell of foliage burnt by the exhaust pipe, which slices along 4 ft directly in front of my nose, was much stronger than it's own emissions, and also lovely and dramatically revealing of what bush or tree had been singed as we passed. I hope it was beautiful where you were too, and that you enjoyed it."
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