After a long wait, the morning sun is finally breaking the horizon before the clock dictates I walk through the doors of the office building. And on my way into work this morning I noticed the long shadows thrown by a cluster of pine trees rising from behind a farmhouse.
That patch of shade made me think of summertime picnics. Not a basket of goodies shared between a romantic couple, but family reunion picnics. Picnics involving rows of folding tables covered with checkered tablecloths. Tables laden with bowls of potato salad, coleslaw, macaroni salad, fruit salad, and more. Gatherings where kids race between tree trunks in games of tag while men with blue jeans held up by suspenders compare returns on investment and plans for crops. Reunions where women in full and half aprons of paisley cotton carry plates of barbecued chicken to the tables and admonish everyone to eat before the main course gets cold.
It was ready to roll down my car window and draw a deep breath of summer air - until I noticed the Fahrenheit display on the dashboard reminding me the chilly days of January still ruled.
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