The sun was shining and it was so warm out today, I decided to go for a walk. I sleep downstairs, so I was unaware that it must have rained last night. But the ground looked like all the pollen strands had been pounded off the trees and into the ground. However, as I walked further from my house, I realized it must have rained fairly hard. The cars, you see, didn’t have that “puked-on” look that usually accompanies a spring rain. Each car gets coated with yellow pollen, but if it only rains a bit, the pollen runs together in lumps and splotches that suggest someone got sick. Instead, all the cars were pretty clean, with the pollen strands sticking to them, here and there. I’m grateful for rain that cleans my car so well.
Of course, I’m grateful for rain for other reasons, but today, I was thankful for the beautiful sunshine. And everywhere, the trees are green, green, green. I was up north, last weekend, and they were still in the daffodil and wisteria stage of spring, but we’ve entered the leafy green and azalea stage. Oh, and the smell of honeysuckle wafted around in the breeze. It made me happy to be outside, and soaking up some of that sun.
I didn’t walk as far as I had intended, because I passed an old friend’s house and found her in the yard. One word led to another, and I ended up staying for a while to tell how I came to be going to Australia.
Aren’t old friends delightful? There’s just something about running into someone that you went from elementary school to high school with. You can’t quite forget that you were inquisitive and sometimes obnoxious little children together. That you knew each other when you were in your teens together, trying to figure out how to behave in a grown-up world.
Come to think of it, our elementary school isn’t there anymore. They ripped down Morrison Elementary and built a church, and replaced Morrison with Clemson Elementary. Those at Clemson E. don’t remember the playground we had, with it’s wonderful jungle gym, the wooden Snake, the rusty swing-sets, and the beat up basketball court. I also remember the first year I moved to Clemson, how my brother and I biked to school, and there was a shortcut through the woods that came out on the playground. Do people still bike to school, anywhere?
It’s always nice to run into people that you share some history with, the good kind of history, where we remember who we were before we became who we are now.
So, after a lovely visit, I walked home and decided that our new driveway didn’t need to wear the puked-on look, either, so I swept it clear in the warm sunshine. I hope everyone else is enjoying some sunshine, as well.