It was a pretty day yesterday here in Maryland for February. When I got home from work, all the kids were playing outside. It was a snapshot of what’s in store for us as spring and summer begin to make their appearances.
But it’s not soon enough for me.
When I stepped onto my screened-in porch, the furniture draped in plastic coverings, I actually said out loud to no one in particular, “Ah…I can’t wait to sit out here soon.” The sun and heat provide therapy—and some necessary Vitamin D—and I thoroughly enjoy relaxing on the sofa out there, feeling the warmth of the sunshine as it seeps through the porch screens and warms my face or back, as I read a book, the birds and nature acting as background music.
Last weekend, we visited my parents and took a spin down to the dock in their neighborhood. It wasn’t a warm day, but the sun was glistening on the water, seagulls squawking in the distance as they landed on the sand. I’m excited for summer and for my dad’s boat to re-enter the water. Scooting up the Magothy River and heading into the Chesapeake Bay on his boat for an afternoon is a complete pleasure.
Like many of you, it’s about this time that I begin to feel the effects of seasonal affective disorder. No, I’ve never been diagnosed with it, nor have I ever been diagnosed with depression, but the months of January, February, and even the early weeks of March can sometimes seem endless here. We all probably feel some soft of effect from this malady. While it’s true we’ve had a pretty mild winter, the lack of greenery on the trees and the inability to truly shed a coat and be comfortable makes me long for flowers, buds, and green, green grass. I need some Vitamin D on my face. I long to feel the heat of the sun, hear the hum of lawnmowers, see kids running through the sprinklers.
Baseball is around the corner. Vacations, suntans, swimming pools, barbecues.
I know. We need to slow down. We can’t get ahead of ourselves.
It’s only February 16. We’ve got a way to go.
But it’s something to look forward to…