We had a glorious Easter weekend. It was a little taste of summer. Incredibly amazing. Great weather. Time with friends. Time with family. What better way to kick off our spring?
In my heart, spring began a long time ago. Visions of my flip flops and capris danced through my head like sugar-plums on Christmas Eve (if you are wondering what that means, you’ll have to direct your question to a Mr. Clemente Moore). Once the festivities of Jesus’ Birthday come to an end, the daydreams of warmer weather begin. Of course, I am still left to face many months of just plain awful weather.
But now alas, after much anticipation and longing–springtime really has sprung, even in our tundra . . . and not just in my head. What a joyous occasion! And what better way to celebrate the birth of spring than to remember the gift of our Savior’s Glorious Resurrection?
Unseasonably warm weather graced us for three full marvelous days. Good Friday really was good–in many ways. James didn’t have to work a full day. We spent time in the company of good friends. I ventured to the zoo with the boys. We ate hot dogs on the grill and met some new people–friends of friends. Easter was spent with my family in Buffalo. I have a massive amount of daffodils gracing the side of my house. I could sit there and smell them all day long.
Visions of sugar-plums ain’t got nothin’ on weekends like these.
Time with pictures while editing remind me of the true innocence of childhood. My first-born love, who is fast approaching three, is still just a moldable sponge. Catching glimpses of my life through the lens is still so different than studying the images once they are captured and on my screen. I see expressions of happiness, curiosity, the joy of life in my little boy . . . and I am truly content.
Nanna sent along an Easter goody bag from already-summer Florida. The marshmallows were the best part, according to Brayden. The tongue says it all.
Our town Lions Club hosted an easter egg hunt. I have never been to a public one . . . I wonder if most of them are the same? The “hunt” was pretty much a mad dash of two hundred children, stampeding onto a square field to gather strewn candy and stash it in their bucket, as fast as their little greedy arms and legs can carry them. I feared for my child’s life, and hovered like a mother hen, ready to cluck at any older and meaner children trying to steal the candy away from my sweet little two-year-old. Think I’m a little paranoid? Or overprotective? Nah–not me.
The advertisement stated that the “hunt” started at 9 a.m. sharp. It’s a good thing we arrived on time–it literally lasted thirty seconds. You would’ve thought that candy was gold. And the whole time I wondered to myself, “why on earth call it an easter egg hunt if there are no eggs in sight and there was no hunt involved?” We must live in a strange town.
It’s a good thing there was a playground nearby. When the thirty-second candy stampede was over, at least we had something else to do.
Carter stayed home with daddy and hopefully cooed at him like he does with me. I love our conversations. I can say anything I want and he doesn’t try to give me advice. Or talk back. What a good little boy.
Part II of our weekend to come soon! Many more pictures are awaiting my creative touches.
newborn, child and family photographer
rochester new york