quick on the heels of winter

On Friday the school declared a snow day and I quickly followed suit, asking my team to work from home. Freezing rain is not to be trifled with.

Joe and I were stuck inside together. Em, Clay, Nate and Jon were stuck together at Jon's house where they were all battling the flu (Joe and I made a soup and soda delivery the night before and then got the heck out of Dodge!)

My day with Joe:

Me working. Joe designing dinosaurs. Me admiring Joe's drawing. Me asking Joe to develop a spec sheet outlining the capabilities of the newly designed Scorpiosaurus. Me working. Joe asking me to review the spec sheet on Scorpiosaurus. Me providing feedback. Joe telling me that at Daddy's house there is better cable. Me trying to work. Me going online and deciding Joe's education was worth $120.00/year MORE; upgrading cable, getting Joe Science, Discovery Health and Military. Me giving up on working after identifying to said team that Scorpiosaurus is real, with a maximum speed of 235 miles per hour.

Working from home is harder than people think it is . But, of course ..... Joe's worth it and besides that you can't go outside in freezing rain. Ask my boss ... he thought the work from home day was "soft" and was later found feet side up in the parking lot of the office building :-). His good humored retort? "I told you so is not an option Ward"

Fast forward to Sunday ... the wintry weather is gone and the flu bug along with it. Joe heads out for a bike ride. Em cooks spaghetti, Clay and Nate are back to work. Jon is thinking about getting out of those jammies and I am off to play in the mud at nearby Damascus Regional Park.

Ahhhhh joy. The cold air against your cheeks stings slightly, but the sun lures you along. You begin to believe in spring and other hopeful possibilities.

Slow! the sign at the trail head commands, followed by another that reads 15 MPH. Reason says neither of these signs are for hikers since this trail is open to mountain bikers, but I realize that I do need to slow down. I need to think. Life has become a batting cage and I do not like to miss; still no one can swing forever. I slow my pace and take out my earphones. Linkin Park gives way to the crunch of old leaves, mud sloshing about my hikers, and the gentle gurgle of a winter-diminished creek. My eyes open behind my sunglasses to a world of transformation. A small bud, brave against the chill, beginning to open. A stump, clean cut by the park rangers saw, that served as a dining table for some small creature not long ago still wears the delicate lace of a winter coat. Fungi on the side of a log mimic the shape of Maryland's most prolific seafood.

My legs stretch and reach as I climb over hills narrowly missing the bramble of tree limbs. My arms swing slowly at my side and with each step I am reassured that I will be more agile the next time a pitch is thrown in my direction; less likely to miss when it matters. And in my life, filled with so many good people and causes, virtually every pitch does matter.

"Every day is a lesson; every person a teacher" ..... this is one of the mantras I pass on to my children. Today's lesson is hope. Today's teacher is Damascus Regional Park and the beauty and order of the natural world.