Lying in bed at night, reading a great book, with the window open. I love my mercer gray walls, the way my book light acts as a spotlight for the characters in the story I am reading, and the smell of spring nights that creeps in through my window.
It reminds me of Alabama and how every once in a while, just before it got so hot it was unbearable, mom and dad would let us sleep outside on the back porch. Those nights seemed ripe with possibility - from the breeze dancing through the trees to the scent of the blooming crepe myrles and freshly cut grass. It's what spring would smell like if it could be bottled and sold as the best eau de toilette money could buy. We talked about boys and practiced french kissing on our hands. If I could go back- even for a moment- I would in a heartbeat.
Okay- that wasn't really my life- it was Reese Witherspoon's in "Man in the Moon"- but it does remind me of that- and the sentiment is so very authentic.
Why is it that spring is just so full of hope?
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