I'll go to see windmills with you if you go to see colonial houses with me
This past weekend was one of the best ways I ever recall welcoming the new warm wind.

Friday night Angie and Karina came over to drink some beer and watch a silly movie. We talked about Providence and Arizona and Holland and other places that you miss when you have to return back to a life you are bored with.

Saturday I awoke early to spend the day with Angie. We drove up to Newport with the windows down and basked in the first good bit of sunlight we had felt on our fair skin in months. We went to visit her Aunts home that is surrounded by gardens and fence posts that have been overtaken by ivy. I really enjoy spending time with Aunt Michelle because she is an artist. She is the woman in the thrift store that will salvage a child-sized guitar so that she may take it home and paint it however she chooses. She gardens so much that I even happened to see one of her finished guitars used as a flower pot. There were small green stems blooming from the sound hole. It was beautiful.

We only stayed long enough to dirty our knees in the garden. We dug up broccoli for supper that night and we didn't even care to wash our hands before we left. We were so content smelling like wind and mud and warmth. Afterward we hiked up a steep trail to discover a grass clearing. Angie's Mother had bought the land ages ago and I think she always desired moving up there now that her girls aren't as young. We sat down on a tree trunk that had fallen over, maybe in a storm, and rested a while and smoked. We let the stillness and peace of that place seep through our skin and release into our nerves. It was such a fine day.

Sunday I ended up calling Jamie because I missed her. Jamie is my childhood friend that I just recently bumped into not too long ago. The last time I saw her was fifth grade. She had trouble at home and someone came and rescued her and took her away for a long time. I like seeing her now and I think that she likes seeing me too. You have to keep the people from your childhood around. They are the only ones who know what fucked you up initially. There's comfort in that, I suppose.

Jamie and I also went for a drive. We got coffee and she even suggested that we take this old mountain view back road. She knew the name of passing flowers that lined people's driveways and we talked about books. We got lost after so long but it didn't matter. We would reach an intersection and turn whichever way we felt looked the nicest. Lately I feel like that people that I can actually sit down and converse with are few and far between. I'm happy to have her as a friend again, especially since she knows the names of writers and flowers.

We didn't do much after our drive was over but I was happy to have spent another day outdoors with someone I felt connected to. I was in fear of the arrival of spring, but now I find that I am embracing it. I never thought I would have so many good people in my life.