It’s a good evening. It was almost warm today. The porch has been restored to its 3-season glory. Gone are the stacked bags & boxes for recycling and the random collection of stuff on its way to somewhere else. A light rain patters in the downspouts, and I have my feet up in my favorite rocker.
The family is doing some sort of terrarium project in the kitchen. It sounds like it involves panning for gold, as I listen to rocks clattering in pans and bowls. The dog has decided to kill a bone directly under my chair. How can a small dog make such a big noise? My neighbor has started his shop vac/leaf blower/pool filter or whatever it is, which he will run every evening from now until October, and the Rod & Gun club has decided the weather is perfect for some spring shooting on the marsh. I’m sure I’ll hear the commuter rail rumbling across the marsh soon as well.
I don’t care. The porch is back, which means spring is here and summer not far behind. I think this calls for a beer.
Editor’s note: I wrote this back on 5/5, but somehow it seems to have gotten stuck in the Draft queue.