Sun. It’s always there, they say. While living in Poland, I could go weeks, it seemed, without actually seeing it. Hidden behind layers upon layers of clouds, the sun’s light was defused throughout the whole sky, a dully gray that made it impossible to tell the time of day. There were two modes: darkness and less darkness.

Lately, it’s seemed like that around here. Gray skies. Rainy days. Cold and damp. Damp and cold.

And then, this morning.

Cloudless. Bright sky. Rich blue. And the temperature soars into the fifties, touches the sixties.

Everyone it seems is out. The neighbors’ dog, an ever-thrilled, always-excited Spaniel, is out making its rounds. I would say “Everyone loves him,” but I can speak only for my family: everyone loves him.

Everyone is out and about, including our dear little friend from up the street. The bare Crape Myrtles in the front beckon, and soon the kids are climbing, laughing, playing.

The promise of spring, the promise of afternoons outside, the promise of long evenings with golden skies.

It’s all coming.