I walk amidst the flipflops that have been strewn on the floor of the mudroom in an attempt to locate my heavy winter muck boots, and I feel a pang of longing in my heart. The summer-like weather of the weekend, filled with sunshine and warm wind, seems so long ago.
Read MoreStepping out onto the deck in the pre-dawn hour the cacophony of voices ring out in the darkness and make me smile. Thousands of peepers invisible to the eye herald in the spring, no doubt thrilled with the misty rain caressing my cheeks.
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Rain fell lightly from the solid sheet of gray overhead and the wind picked up as the school bus rolled to a stop in front of our mailbox. As Abby stepped from the pot-holed gravel driveway onto the street, the petals from the pear tree jumped off onto the breeze and flew like a hundred tiny butterflies, white against the spring green background.
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