I love . . .

I love being home alone, a pause, to take a beat.

I love sunlight blinding me as I drive to the doctor. I love sunlight made magnificent by fresh snow. . .  crunching under my feet.

I love snow, how it contours the rock walls,  a dash of highlighter across old fields.

I love, I love Hope but don’t want to have to hope.  I love, I love, I love brave, but like hope, don’t want to have to brave.

I love, when my boiler brakes, to have a wood stove to keep us warm through the night. I love a house full of kids, running outside to romp in the snow, an owl flying just above. I love the full moon, keeping me wide awake as others sleep.

I love frogs and peepers and mud. I love the smell of spring in my babies hair, fresh air and running feet.

I  l o v e  t h e  o c e a n.