The Sun

Yesterday I was on carpool duty for my oldest and her friends. So around 5pm I loaded up the younger two, flipped up the third row of seats, and emptied two grocery bags worth of toys out of the backseat of the car.

I’d been distracted trying to finish a writing project and also clean the house all afternoon so I left the carpool to the last minute, only realizing it was time for pick up when my babysitter waved goodbye. Two minutes after I should’ve been out the door. So it was in a haze that I secured my younger kids into their car seats and took off down the street.

And it took me a while to realize. But then there we were at the first intersection and as I looked up out of my busy stressed head, I saw it. The sky. Minutes before sunset.

It was the first light I could remember seeing after 5 o’clock in months. And on that cold, February day, deep into dealing with kids who’ve had no mask breaks or outdoor recesses or ways to run around all week, on the same day the groundhog saw his shadow promising six more weeks of winter, I realized how much I needed to see the light.

To know that the faraway hope of spring is still out there, creeping towards us more and more each day. To know that every season does end. That new beginnings always follow dark days.

It’s only early February and already it’s been a long winter. Already I’m wondering what I’m going to do with the kids tomorrow if they call another snow day. But yesterday I saw the sun. So today I’m dreaming of spring. And the new growth that awaits us all.

*pic from late November, taken on one of our last fall walks on the beach.

Jackie Bardenwerper