Simple And Free

This warming time of the year always brings its own special memories. A certain bird song can put me back in the sandbox in Don Miller's back yard when we were little kids. If I smell last year's dried grass, not yet replaced by new growth, I am reminded of my Aunt Ruth's farm, which was on land not at all far from here but is now well past needing Uncle Jim's tractor. When I went to college in Kentucky, one of the most beautiful places you'll ever see in the springtime, I played hookey from school every first pretty day of the year. I would get in my car, open all the windows, and just drive. It took very little time to get out into the countryside and feel rebirth gently finding its way into me. The sound of the car radio would have been an unwelcome distractraction on those drives. I was completely content just bathing in the warm breezes, enjoying the fragrance of the newgrown bluegrass, and feeling totally at one with the gorgeousness I was part of. From where we live now, it takes longer to get out of the city. But on our drives to Delaware, once we cross the Chesapeake Bay and reach the farmland of the Eastern Shore, the same feelings return, and they are just as strong as they were in Kentucky.

Back in my early teens, before I won the "you have to go to church" argument with my parents, one of my favorite things to do was to walk the mile or so home from church on a pretty Sunday morning. I ambled, happy to be completely alone, savoring the experience of spring: the warmth, not yet DC-oppressive, the birdsong, the light breeze. You entered our street at the top of a hill and headed down towards our house, at the bottom. The hilltop gave a panoramic view of the street, a Rockwell painting come to life. All the colors were brilliant, the grass a shade of emerald but still neat, not yet needing to be mowed. The houses, regardless of their age, seemed to be in mint condition. Even at that young age I remember feeling lucky to be alive and thankful for the contentment.

Those memories of happiness springing from life's simplest gifts are easy to conjure but can be hard to re-create as we age. Adult life has its more sophisticated pleasures, to be sure. But learning of the joy to be found in the things life gives me free of charge every day was a valuable lesson indeed.