1. It’s a busy Wednesday here in Charlottesville–I have a lot of meetings today and I’m doing my part to not be distracted by the warming temperatures. It’s supposed to be 68 degrees today and so I am hoping that I will be able to run out of my office as often as possible to take it in and get a little solar energy on this winter white skin. This morning I opted to wear a skirt and boots with no tights which reminded me of some early Spring day in sixth grade and hearing on the morning weather that it was going to be 60 degrees that day. I clearly remember wearing a pink and white stripped shirt with white jeans, and under the jeans I snuck a pair of white biker shorts with lace cuffs (This was 1993, afterall!) because I was sure that 60 degrees was pretty much summer temperatures. Thinking of my best interest, I’m sure, Mom was always wanted me to wait just a little longer before wearing shorts to school, and I can clearly remember that exciting and terrible feeling of knowing that I was sneaking behind Mom’s back as I snuck those shorts. I pulled my jeans off when I got to school and instantly got goosebumps and purple legs and spent the remainder of the day putting my jeans on and pulling them off if I thought it would be warm enough. I don’t know why that memory stands out to me so much, because I’m sure it wasn’t the first time I had snuck something, but at some point almost every Spring I remember that outfit, the too-cold day, and the fact that 60 degrees is enough to warm your cheeks, but hardly enough for me to start baring any skin.
2. Although a little counter-intuitive, this is the time of year that I associate the most with a sunrise. I was trying to find some pictures of a sunrise in my library to toss up, and came across the picture above from last June when our photographer friend Katie Falkenberg was visiting and she snapped this picture in the early morning light of our old house. While I revel in the size and space of our new house, I will always covet and remember the unique quality of light that came through those windows first thing in the morning on Rosser avenue. Drew and I spent many a Saturday and Sunday morning sitting just like this, with our faces tipped to the morning light, day dreaming about what the day would hold.
3. And finally, I’ve spent the winter mornings making the bed every morning, situating pillows on the couch and keeping the living room tidy because we are in the house so much. These last couple of warm days, I’ve had to remind myself to stay on the ball because the sun is up and I’m ready to run. I want to apologize to the house and to Drew for feeling the Anne Shirley in me rearing her head and pushing me to go linger in a row boat somewhere with my fingertips lazing into the water. Of course, there is no water, no boat, and no lingering to be done (yet!) but that sun still calls to my private lack of sensibility and encourages me to spend a day making a whole lot of something out of nothing.
but for now…back to work! Happy Mornings to you.