Days like this...

Sometimes I swear this place is going to be the end of me. Especially on days like yesterday. The kind of days when the earth can't decide if it should be cloudy or sunny and it sprinkles a little rain in there just to make things even more confusing. The kind of days when it seems like there is no end to the green that carpets the valley this time of year. The cows laze around, a few sunning themselves on a hilltop and the sheep pepper the green with their curly white fleece. I'll roll the windows down and listen to the brook gurgling over nooks and crannies and I'll wince thinking about how cold it probably is because I tried dipping my toes in last May and it was brutally cold.
I'll walk into a store and there will be none of that frenetic energy that instantly makes me tense up in DC and instead everyone seems to be on an indolent tour of the zoo. I'll take my time, stopping to give my baby girl an eskimo kiss and wait long enough for her to let out one of her closely guarded giggles. I'll talk to the checkout girl about her baby due in August and she'll tell me about her feisty two year old and reveal that she hopes the girl will take after her and have a calmer nature. I'll wish her luck and as I wheel our cart away I'll take one last look at her and notice her hand shyly caressing the top of her bump. And it will make me feel all wonderful and golden because I really do believe that pregnant women are the most beautiful of our kind.
I'll drive home and the college radio station will read my mind and pick the most perfect songs to go along with the now fiercely shining sun - upbeat and twinkly. Birdie will fall dead asleep, worn out from all that shopping, and her bottom lip will bob up and down occasionally. I'll grin from all the goodness around me, the breathtaking landscape outside and the gorgeous babe in my rearview mirror. And then I'll wonder how I ever got this lucky...
And as the sun begins to set our car will make it's journey up our dirt road, the tires getting stuck every now and then on a loose stone. A tree just brimming over with leaves will brush up against my window and I'll roll it down again so I can hear the buzzing of the carpenter bees and the swoosh of the wind over the tree tops. I'll turn the car off. Open my door. And I'll just take it all in - the smell of spring, the humming and buzzing all around and the trees swaying in the wind will make me dizzy and I'll start to nod off. But the heat will pour into the car and wake me up and I'll walk up the steps of our porch with a groggy and warm baby in my arms and we'll be greeted by a cool breeze when we open the door. We'll walk in and start to get ready for bed.
Days like this? I tell ya'... They're killer.