Spring Picnic

There is a warm, gentle breeze that brushes the hair from my face, and lifts the cherry blossoms from the branches. One floats down and lands on my shoulder. I brush it off, but I do not see or feel the one that lands on my head. It is quiet here, still and peaceful. As I breathe deeper, bringing the scent of lilacs into my body, my mind slows enough to hear the buzzing of the bees, the whispering of a couple as they walk past me from sunshine into the shade of a tree, then back into sunshine again. I fold myself onto the picnic blanket where we laid it by the tulips, bursts of red and yellow that dance in the breeze, to the same melody only my children can hear, bouncing and giggling as they eat their chicken salad sandwiches so they can have a chocolate chip cookie, later.




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