1. Morning walks. I was thinking the other day as Eric and I were talking about geese — I’d seen two pairs on our walk and thought to myself “where are your babies?” because tis the season, and Eric told me about driving by the canal at City Park where the families with babies usually spend a lot of time and seeing five sets of parents and babies — that when you see something a lot, you start to take it for granted. Almost every morning we walk, if we go early enough, we will see deer because there is a small herd of whitetails who live along the river, so when we see them, it’s almost unremarkable, except for when there are babies or a buck with a huge rack. Canadian geese are the same, because there is a significant population who decided the climate and resources here are such that they don’t bother to migrate but rather stay here year round. Even a heron or a beaver is exciting but not that unusual to see. Owls always seem special but even those I see quite a bit. My point is, I feel so lucky to live somewhere that I cross paths with magic on the regular, that wonder and awe is a normal and consistent part of my mornings.

2. Spring. My window feeder was finally replaced and the chickadees and finches are back, the leaves of my maple tree are light green and droopy, my irises are blooming, my lilac blooms are fading but I can still smell them when the wind blows, the backyard is full of the yellow and poofs of dandelions, the grass is so green and soft, and there is a robin nesting in our lilac bushes.  

3. Mother’s Day. We lost Eric’s mom early this year and I still can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that I’ll never see her again. My mom is growing more confused and agitated, which has been really hard for my brother to watch. We’d so hoped she could maybe somehow skip the worst parts of dementia, and I still selfishly hope she is able to leave the suffering of her current body before she forgets us. I sent her flowers and a box of See’s candy along with a fidget blanket to see if that can help her with some of her agitation. I am so lucky to have had not one but two moms who loved me so much, even as losing them feels wholly unlucky. 

4. Practice. In particular, the way it helps me return home to myself.

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. I am looking forward to Eric being on summer break, for real. The past few years, he’s had extra work so even when he was technically “on break,” he was still working, even when we were at the coast. We are making a list of things we want to do together this summer and I’m just as excited about the nothing we’ll do together.

Bonus joy: being mostly over that dumb cold I had last week, yoga in the morning, big salads, books from the library on my Kindle and my hack that allows me to keep them as long as I need to (airplane mode!), libraries and librarians, poets and poetry, listening to podcasts, watching TV (home renovation shows on HGTV have always been my comfort TV and I just finished season two of Renovation Aloha and it was so good), comedy, true crime, onions, cabbage, other people’s dogs and kids and gardens, a song so good you play it on repeat (such as this from Teddy Swims, or this one and this one from Goldford, and just about any version of this song, which is one of my favorites), sunshine, sunrise, sunset, that particular limey green of early spring, bloopers and gag reels, the ocean, pine trees, an owl calling out in the dark of morning, down blankets and pillows, naps, reading in bed at night while Ringo and Eric sleep.