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.
