Trares
Even before opening my eyes, I could tell last Sunday was going to be different.
Laying in bed, I could hear birds chirping enthusiastically. After what seemed like days of cold, windy, rainy weather, that seemed like a harbinger.
Anthony agreed. “Daddy, it looks like spring outside!” are the words he woke me up with.
March had been such a gloomy month. We’d had so much rain, so much wind, even a few flakes of snow. Temperatures seemed to linger in the 40s. Though the occasional warm day had been sprinkled in here and there, it felt like winter had been dragging its feet on getting out of here.
So we were very excited when, even from inside the house, it had the look of a spring day. The sun was shining in a clear blue sky. The aforementioned birds were swooping from tree to tree. A few dandelions had even poked their yellow flowers up from the grass.
Stepping out in our backyard, we were not disappointed. Without saying a word to each other, Anthony and I mutually decided to spend the day doing all of the spring things. My wife was out of town for the weekend with a friend, and wouldn’t be back in town until later. We had hours to do some father-son bonding.
Taking advantage of the steady breeze coming out of the south, we flew Anthony’s new kite, watching it dip and dive with its long black tail trailing behind it. I’d get it up in the air, then Anthony would take over, pulling it tight and letting it fly ever-higher in the sky.
We only got it caught in the tree twice — success!
Staring out at our neighborhood pond, we had noticed for weeks all of the trash that had blown up on shore over the winter. We grabbed a trash bag and made our way around the shore, picking up bottle caps, plastic bags, bits of styrofoam and other litter to give our favorite body of water a fresh spring start.
I got a jump on cleaning out the garage, transitioning all of the toys and lawn furniture from cold-weather storage to ready-to-use. Behind some boxes we found our trusty lounge chair, which Anthony set up in the front yard. Donning shades and a cold popsicle, he soaked up some rays while I worked.
We ended the only way a spring day could: with a cookout. I pulled out the grill and roasted some hot dogs, which Anthony smothered in ketchup and scarfed up.
The weekend could not have closed on a better note.
Having lived in the Midwest my entire life, I know we don’t have a straight line through spring into summer. We could have snow on the ground tomorrow.
But for one day, the optimism of the coming seasons was enough to invigorate both Anthony and I. That should last us for a while.
Ryan Trares is a senior reporter and columnist for the Daily Journal. Send comments to [email protected].
