This weekend I decided to put aside deadlines and to-do lists, to take a break from the real world and spend some time in . . . well, the real world.
The weather was beautiful. I wish you were here.
I thought about how you would use your words to describe the beauty of the day and the freedom of the experience in poetry and prose, or how your cameras would capture better images.
I thought about telling you of this place , which I am not alone in thinking of as “Mayberry,” where the people are friendly, the children are always outside playing — riding bikes or skateboards, sailing, swimming, practicing lacrosse or basketball — and how even the teenagers politely wave and say “hello;” how the dogs are fat and happy, as dogs should be, too content to run away, too secure to feel threatened by strangers; how the local policeman sits watching to make sure things stay as they should be and how he too smiles and waves, unless you’re breaking the speed limit.
I thought about how I never got around to writing about the lemonade stand, and how eagerly I await its next impromptu appearance to see how its sun-kissed, freckle-faced, giggly entrepreneurs have grown since last fall.
I thought about describing the landmarks — the Thomas Point Lighthouse and the U.S. Naval Academy and upcoming Commissioning Week, or telling you about the local competition between sailboaters and powerboaters out there on the open water.
I thought about how some of you would understand the experience of having forgotten how steep a certain grade is or how much farther 10 miles is to pedal after a long winter indoors, but the feeling of wind and fresh air and sunshine is more than worth the achy muscles.
But mostly I just thought . . . about things like dandelions and buttercups, driftwood and rock walls, bonfires and magnolia trees, and fat, sunbathing geese . I breathed fresh air and I took pictures and soaked in enough sunshine to get myself through what threatens to be a rainy week, back in that other so-called real world.
Wherever you are, I hope your weather is beautiful and your real world is as pleasant as a Saturday bike ride in April.