In the middle of February, when we were surrounded by towering snow banks and the weatherman predicted yet another storm to add to our record breaking winter, it was hard to imagine summer would ever arrive. Long after the snow melted, I longed for snippets, moments when I could take a deep breath and say, “Yes. This is what I’ve been waiting for.” I confess, circumstances conspired to get me off to a slow start, but here is one.
My husband, on vacation Friday, suggested we go out to lunch when I got off work at noon. The morning had been grey after an overnight rain, but a smidgen of sun offered hope. We drove toward one of our regular haunts until, spur-of-the- moment, we decided to try something new—a brew pub on the bay, one town over we’d heard of for years, but never tried. The sun broke all the way through the clouds by the time we arrived. The seats on the outdoor patio were dry.
Deep breath taken. Friday afternoon. A pint of beer, and an order of fish tacos overlooking the Boston Harbor Islands.
Yep, we’ll be back.