The dark days are over

Spring is here!

I don’t care if it snows tomorrow (and the weather report says there’s a 90% chance that it will); I won’t have to shovel the paths and the gates and the doors. Oh joy! I won’t have to scrape the car windows. I may even pass by the outdoor thermometer without throwing it a glance. What freedom!

We celebrated spring by heading north with the geese, loosely guided by the goal of shopping for lightweight backpacks for some summer hiking. We browsed camping gear stores; drove through touristy ski towns, had lunch at a famous resort (the brussels sprouts salad, alone, is worth the drive); and wandered Burlington’s pedestrian mall, letting the dog choose the path his nose suggested.

We arrived home just after dark. The waterfall below the house was roaring with spring run-off. The huge, orange “super moon” was hovering over the hills, lighting our way.

Last week, on an equally beautiful springtime day, Hyla and I drove south to meet up with my sister for lunch. The iPod was on, doling out the tunes, and when this one came on we turned it up LOUD and sang along at the top of our lungs. I’m sure all the other cars on the highway could have heard us singing if it weren’t for my broken muffler roaring over our voices.

Sure, now I know she’s singing “The dog days are over,” but I first heard it as “The dark days are over” and that’s what I was singing about all weekend.

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