Happy Easter

This may be one of the most lovely, warm, beautiful late-mornings I’ve felt since last spring. I’m in a t-shirt! Outside! with my legs shadowed with slits of sun. Yogurt with berries and granola, espresso soaking in the warm water of my French Press. I’m waiting to press. I planted small strawberries in a blue container. Their flowers have small open yellow mouths. Tula is squinting in the sun, sniffing around like the warmth is an unfamiliar animal, a new scent. And it is.
the trees are electric – especially one across the neighbor’s yard. Pulsing green with black varicose tree limbs underneath.
Today is Easter. My mom said she was going to send candy, but forgot so is going to eat it herself. yay, mom!
I remember Easter was mostly about camping, spring break. We packed up our white VW van and headed to the desert – the dry, brown, yet somehow the wildflowers dug deep enough for water. They popped. Red, yellow poppies. We hiked to an oasis once in Anza Borrego. And mom would always hide the candy within the rocks of our campsite, the shrubs. The aluminum foil glittered. There was always an equal number of the bigger things – peanut butter eggs, we each got a big chocolate bunny.
I remember one year, my leg ran into a cactus in the middle of the night, on the way to the bathroom. And I brought a friend along that year that I wasn’t even very close with – must have been a time when I wasn’t so scared to be alone with someone i didn’t know very well. But she asked my mom while we were driving on a windy road on the side of a mountain, how she could drive so well around the curves. She wasn’t scared of the cliff or the massive drop after the cliff. You just follow the lines, my mom said.

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