I jerked awake.
An alarm had been going off in my dream... I was making lavender caramels for my mother and then a huge buzzer... wait, no... that was J's phone. Hastily I grabbed it, feeling him stir next to me.
"Honey, you got a call," I mumbled and handed him the phone.
"Mmmmph. I don't know this number."
"It's 1:45 AM," I said with a sigh, "Did they leave a message?"
"Nope," he replied, setting his phone on his bedside table.
He snuggled up to me with a groan, and we tried to go back to sleep. I felt so uncomfortable, hot and cold... my pulse pounding in my ears.
Groggily, and with a stuffy nose, I managed to slip back into the gray depths of dreams.
Mom smiled at me as the doorbell's sonorous tones echoed into the kitchen.
"Good morning. She's only got the one bag. Thank you," I said to the shuttle driver as he opened the screen door, the springs groaned slightly.
"Well Honey, I'm so glad I was able to come. I'll ring you from the airport. Love you," she said quietly smiling. We hugged.
"Love you too Mom. Thank you for everything, we really appreciated your coming."
With a smile, she stepped out on to the porch, following the driver to the big blue van.
Helping her up the step, he threw her suitcase in the back and then puttered off while I waved goodbye.
Breathing in the crisp cool air which was already beginning to sparkle with sunshine, I felt a little tired.
I decided to go for a walk.
I made it two blocks and had to turn around because of the blinding sunshine and the noisy, belching trucks and buses.
Yes, I was a pansy this morning.
I am also quite certain that I looked silly, seeing as I had donned a summer dress; decided it was too cold for just that, and pulled on scrub pants and a red sweatshirt.
The result was that my aqua skirt stuck out like a tutu under my t-shirt and hoodie, fluffed over my brown pants.
The morning air was nice, but not quite delicious... traces of exhaust mixing in with the smells of spring mud and budding plants.
This morning I was reminded of spring in Oklahoma: Early mornings when the dew from the thunderstorm the night before is still misty, and the smell of sprinklers and moist clay mix with the smell of cool shale in the shade and wet concrete.
In Vermont, spring smells like mud, cows and melting snow.
When I think of spring, I largely choose to remember Oklahoma as a kid.
I remember "helping," my father in the garden and flower beds, getting more peat moss on my person that in the topsoil.
I remember the brilliant hue of marigolds and their spicy smell. The purple and yellow pansies, nodding in the sunshine. Daffodils and tulips, springy and with bright green stems waving in the light breeze.
I long for spring and summer thunderstorms, for lightening and the cool, wet, slick smell of rain. For the gray and purple afternoons that seep lazily into the night; the hush of evening silenced by the calm and quiet before the storm.
The prologue to the rain, and the booming thunder and flashing quickening.
Just before the lights go out and the electricity blinks and stays off, and the beeswax candles come out and light faces with their warm and soothing glow.
Peanut butter and jelly, or pimento cheese sandwiches with iced tea and oatmeal cookies for dinner.
Spring rushes into summer.....
Lemonade and heat. Sun baking the black tar asphalt and the waves of thermals visible in the roads... the grasses crunching and dry.
The longing for more rains, rains that will save the plains, begins.
I'm not truly convinced that CO really knows what drought means... beyond fire that is.
We know fire in CO.
I mean droughts that happen every, single year. Droughts that make families weep, not because of evacuation, which is terrifying in and of itself, but tears shed because the crops are dying. Financial ruin may not be far behind.
My thoughts will be in the plains and the mountains this summer... I will always do dances...
Now, however, spring has finally arrived.
Unless it snows again.
Which I cannot say will make me sad... not really.