I forget which poet it is – ee cummings?- who speaks of the great celebration that is spring.  The world becomes puddle-luscious.

And so it is here in Grand Marais, MN.

I put on my skis this morning to spend an hour or so in the woods and they LAUGHED at me!  I was moving (or trying to)  along on bannana peels, since I had no wax designed for spring skiing (I have since learned it is Klister wax that I need.  Tomorrow is another day).  I tried to make my way down the trail because  it is a day for outdoor savoring but finally gave up, laughing at myself and life because shuffling in place just doesn’t suit me.

Driving into town to get above mentioned antidote to skids, I topped the hill and saw kites flapping in the wind.  Kites!  Superman kites and box kites and dragon kites, anchored on the ice of the harbor, catching the wind with laughter, and tended by ice-skating people carving their joy on a shelf of ice with the sparkle of open water behind them. 

The world is puddle-luscious in this in between time.  I am perched in a coffee shop in a town I love, sipping a triple espresso and eating a Thunder Cookie and I will soon go out to play in the wind and the slush and the warm and the luscious.

Thanks be.