We headed out this afternoon around 3:00 in full sunshine and a stiff breeze. The mid-40's temps meant the wind was very chilly when a gust came whooshing past. Brrr. As I left the house, I called, "I may be right back, but I may not!" I had been trying to leave for several hours, but the wind-chill-factor kept sending me back in. This time I had on enough top layers to block some of the wind: silk long undies, long sleeved t-shirt, turtleneck wool sweater, Patagonia top, and a scarf. My goal: head to Meetinghouse Creek to sit in the sun on the south facing bank.
It was good. It was warm. It was cozy. Daisy and Duke played a bit then settled down for a nap on either side of me. The air in the little valley smelled damp, the sound of rippling water over rocks soothed my frazzled, undecided mind. I would stay.
I drew one of the many Spikerush plants that grow in the sand along the creek. The sun can't penetrate the round spikes of this plant, but within it were blades of newly grown grass that glowed bright green. The dark green Spikerush grows everywhere along Meetinghouse Creek as it passes through the open, sunny pipeline. Its roots help hold the banks during times of flood.
After I completed the drawing I closed my eyes, put my face into the sun, and listened to the wind blow through the pines above our head as it skipped over our low valley. A small plane buzzed high in the sky. I put my hand on Daisy's side, her fur hot to the touch, and she looked up at me with sleepy eyes. "Are you finished, Mom?"
Yes, sweet girl.
I woke Duke and we all three headed home.
My friends napping in the sun.