Sunday morning bliss

Sunday morning bliss.
She puckers up for a kiss.
Spring blooms bright with love.

Advertisements

Spring with a shovel

In Minnesota, winter goes on forever.

Or so it seems.

Though the calender’s been telling me it’s spring, my belief system’s been telling me otherwise.

The early morning winds were wicked again this morning.

And so was my mood after seeing possible snow in the forecast going into Easter weekend.

Yet by the afternoon a bright sun was victorious in its battle with the breeze over by the lake.

I suddenly heard honking overhead as a flock of Canadian geese returned from a long winter vacation in Florida.

They were busily checking out the local real estate market in hopes of finding the perfect nest.

As I stood on the dock, I thought how spring break for me this year on a white sandy beach is as likely as all that dirty snow and ice melting overnight.

Yet hearing those geese again was a wake up call.

I’ve lived here long enough to remember ‘don’t stop believing.’

Spring will surely come.

It always does.

So I went right home and put my flip flops back in the trunk.

Right next to my snow shovel.