I love my little house in Lexington. I love that it's close enough to walk places and in a bustling little neighborhood where there are always people walking around with dogs and kids and backpacks. But it's so easy to get distracted there, what with things always going on and friends around the block.
I spent today holed up in our pals' home while they're off having a baby. Just me and the dogs. Ok, it was more like me, the painter, the Crate + Barrel deliverymen and the dogs. But still. Their place is kind of in the middle of nowhere. Not like deliverance middle of nowhere, but trees on all sides leave the shades open with no fear middle of nowhere.
The point is, I think sometimes I forget what quiet is. Not quiet like sealed in your house silent, but quiet. Quiet like sitting in a sunroom - or on a deck - with only the sounds of wind rustling the trees and creeks flowing and herons winging overhead and the gentle pushing up of green things all around. The air, the sun, the scent of spring - everything just quietly being all around.
It was a beautiful day.
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