April Come She Will

With apologies to T.S. Eliot, I think you got it wrong, buddy.  April is not the cruelest month, it's among the most magnificent thirty days on the calendar.

Okay, I'll acknowledge that if I still lived up north I may be singing a different tune, but here in Florida... well, it's nearly incomparable.  Each morning is like an exquisite gift waiting to be opened.  The daybreak gives way to periwinkle skies and sparse fluffy clouds.  Not much humidity yet, so I still can manage good hair days.  The littles are happy to be shepherded outside to the backyard in the afternoon while I stretch out on the chaise, sunglasses on and in full relaxation mode.  Up and down the Little Tykes slide they go in an endless loop or race barefoot races across the lawn.  I sigh take a sip of water. Surveying the scope of my little world I'm nearly in sensory overload.  The grass is impossibly green; the golf carts zip by filled with men in plaid shorts, visors and skort clad women who pause to wave as they pass us on their way to the next fairway.

I make a mental note to call someone to have the palms trimmed back "hurricane" style before June 1st.  Meanwhile, their fronds dip and sway to the rhythm of the breeze.  Dragonflies hum as they dart in and out of the azaleas.  Normally, a scene like this would make me drowsy but everything around me seems so alive with color, scent and sound that I focus on drinking it all in.  Wouldn't it be lovely, I muse, to somehow bottle the essence of April to take out and relive on dreary days?  I will myself to imprint the details of the moment in my memory bank. 

In the evening I take my usual walk around our neighborhood.  As I start out, daylight is waning.  The boys who usually play street hockey on my block reluctantly leave their friends to go inside for dinner. Lights in front windows wink on, one by one.  The aroma of burgers on a charcoal grill waft by, and although I don't eat red meat, my stomach rumbles with some primeval desire. Small pink bikes lay temporarily abandoned in front yards while their pint sized owners splash happily in their bathtubs.  I listen to my favorite music and just walk, walk, walk.  Soon, it's nightfall.  It's cooler now and I zip my light jacket while looking up at the sky.  It's a clear night and the stars remind me of glitter scattered across the heavens. I think of my parents, my sister, and friends I've lost and feel their presence in the night sky.

Later, as I snuggle into bed, I shiver with anticipation for the next day when it happens all over again.  May, with her beguiling attributes, is just around the corner.  I know I'll love May with full abandon when the time comes and my love affair with April will fade into the background, but right now, at this very moment, I want this month to last forever.