Dear Spring

Dear Spring,

Please, please come back. I miss you. When you left I know it was because Summer had come to town and you may have felt intimidated with all of her long sunny days and giving off heat so intense sometimes, she had the power to make the rest of us wear the skimpiest of clothes and sometimes even do nothing but just lie around basking in her light. Oh, but she is not you.

And yes, then Fall came wearing the most breathtaking colors. She is THE weather diva sashaying down earth’s runway wearing her colors of gold and red that no one else can carry off. But you know she only stays a short while, so you never have to worry about her. And again, she is not you.

But then there’s Mother Winter. Sometimes the cruelest one of all with her paralyzing ways. None of the others can compare with her ability to hold us down, keeping us hostage to warmer areas while she redesigns the landscape by making new snow mountains and hills by covering everything she sees. Yes, there are some who love her and dance with her in the storms and use her back to ski or sled down, but not me. She is definitely not you.

Spring, you are the only one for me. Yes, okay, I admit, there are some things about the others that I hold dear, but it is you whom I adore and just can’t wait to see again.

I keep thinking of the times when we used to walk in the park or go running and bike riding outside in the fresh air, and then the nights I would sleep with the window open, your rose and lilac perfume wafting through the window and tickling my dreams. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to smell and feel you now.

So come back dear Spring. I heard you were coming back to town in a few weeks and I am counting the days. It’s hard to believe you’ll be here soon when I hear Mother Winter will once again come visit my house. But I will keep the vision of green grass and budding trees in my heart and listen for the songbird singing your name.

I will be hear waiting, but please hurry because I can’t wait to see you again!




Friday’s Focus—Zig Where You Would Zag

Did you see that? I didn’t quite catch it, but looking back over my shoulder and at the calendar, that was September that just ran past. Already (or so it seems), there’s another new month and a fresh blank calendar page. Shorter days and cooler nights, the stores are exploding in a pumpkin-tinged celebration.

I’m ignoring the fact that I’ve already seen Christmas cards in one store, I’m taking the moment in. To me, there was always something special in these first 2 weeks of October. Like there’s something magical in the air as Mother Nature holds her breath as she disrobes and literally lets her hair down before her winter nap.

I wish for you on this Friday’s Focus that you take some time this weekend to explore—even if it’s in your own town. Go out with no destination in mind and zig where you would have zagged and see where you get led. Don’t give it a second thought wherever you go and whatever you do. Free your imagination and let your instinct take the lead. Grab the kids, the dog, the significant other or just yourself and go for a walk, a drive, a bike ride, a run.

Whatever it is, use this weekend to listen to the siren song of Mother Nature and let yourself get caught up in the magic of this time in between seasons and who knows what you’ll find!


Have a great weekend! 

Keeping it light and singing LiLoLa [Live, Love, Laugh] all the way….


When we first moved to our home, I didn’t so much mind my one-hour commute.  I would tell people that if I was going to commute and if I was going to be stuck in traffic, this would be the ideal, with much of my travel consisting of driving through woods and over causeways above the lakes.

In the spring and summer, the greenness and abundance of the trees and the sunlight reflecting off the water and can be pure joy, reminiscent of childhood summer days. In the fall, there are days it seems I am driving through a tunnel of fire when all the leaves are at their height of color and fall upon my path with a reckless kamikaze abandonment. In the winter, the sun peeks through the snow-laden tree branches making the tree line look like a giant piece of lace if I used soft vision, and the water becomes a frozen oasis with people finally getting a bit of Jesus in them and walking out onto the solid water for ice fishing, skating, or just because they can. Being surrounded by such beauty did slow me down for awhile and when I got stuck in traffic, I enjoyed just staring off into the trees as I waited for God knows what up ahead to be cleared and finally being able to drive faster than I could walk.

It’s been over 10 years since we bought the house and though it’s still very beautiful where I live, there are days when the shine has rubbed off. The stress of commuting and the complications that just seems to happen as we get older and life goes on has made the extraordinary became ordinary. Mundane. Being stuck on a curvy road behind a slow driver or a delivery truck for 25 miles or having one-lane closed for construction has become pure torture more days than not.

I hate to say it but I’ve become blinded to the beauty around me when I drive and these once wondrous sites have turned into obstacles I feel I must overcome. I don’t notice the trees so much anymore, focusing instead on craning my neck to see who is at the head of the line creating a parade during prime commuting time and how much longer it will take me to get to my destination. Everything has suddenly become far.

I’ve been a die-hard commuter for as long as I can remember driving and working. A Jersey commuter who mastered the art of driving a stick shift on the Garden State Parkway and NJ Turnpike during rush hour while drinking a cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette, perfectly balancing them as I rolled down the window to throw in my token at the tollbooths. It was an art and I was queen.

These days, I rarely travel the Parkway and Turnpike anymore, I quit smoking, and I now drive an automatic (though I still drink coffee in the car), but the commuter queen in me has never really gone away. Yes, I know I could /should take these delays as signs to slow down, but it’s not always so easy. And honestly, sometimes I just don’t want to.  I want to get where I’m going!

There is still one thing that takes my breath away and makes me slow down and appreciate where I live that no construction, no Sunday driver, no weather system can ever take away and that is view of the sunrise from my kitchen window.

There are three windows at the back of our house that overlook the backyard and face East. In the morning, as I get ready for the day ahead, I always look out hoping to maybe get a peek of a passing animal or just to see the level of daylight that helps me gauge my degree of lateness! Typically, it’s dark when I get up. A while goes by and I look out the back window and it’s still dark. Then it gets lighter. Shadows. Grey sky. Shadows sharpen into forms. Lighter Grey. And then it happens—the sun climbs over the horizon between the trees and the most awesome pinks and yellows and whites burst open the day. Sunrise. It’s like a lamp gets turned on in the morning that starts the day.

There have been mornings when the sudden beauty of the bursting sunrise has pulled from me an audible gasp but then awed me into silence at the gorgeousness of it all. You want to know if there’s a God or something bigger than us out there? Just watch a sunrise and let’s talk about it afterward. This is when I think, “yeah, this is why I live here” and remember that there is a bigger journey I am on than just the commute from my home to my office.

Sometimes, I’ll lean my forehead against the glass and wonder what windows will I be looking out at 10 years from now and what will I see? 5 years? Next year? What will my scenery be? I have no clue but wherever my windowpane will be and what it will look out onto, I’ll never forget the sunrises.