Spring is finally here. We're faced with sporadic weather, changing by the week. Sneezing noses are all the rage. All of the sudden I'm remembering what humidity is like. And for all these things, I couldn't be happier.
Spring really is rebirth. It's new life. It's the birds in my backyard that literally shout across the trees every morning. It's the flowers on my table and the breeze that brushes my back. This winter has felt long, longer than usual. I think all the transitions and changes that have taken place this year have caused all aspects of my life to be drug out in their intensity. And now that spring has come, it really, truly feels like the first time in my life that I've smelled these aromas and heard these songs. I had forgotten that this would, actually, come again, that we wouldn't stay in short days and cold nights forever. All of the sudden this beauty is hitting me like a gust of wind on my face, forcing my eyes opening and rushing air through my nose and my mouth, renewing my sight and my lungs. And all of the sudden my heart is softened, my understanding is more tender, my gratitude explodes. "Thank you, thank you for beauty and gifts and new life."
This morning is more notable than the others, for some reason. Maybe because it's the first Saturday morning I've not worked in a long, long time. I'm spending this time in my house, with no agenda, no demands, no one texting me. Slowed down. Thankful. But with the windows open and the air gracing my apartment, I'm taken back in time. Every spring this happens, this memory surges forward and my heart warms with delight. I'm sitting on the couch in our living room in the duplex on Secretariat Drive. I sit next to my mom, my sister on her other side. It's a morning on a weekday and we are in the midst of reading or studying because we are homeschooled. And I. Can't. Focus. Behind the couch are three windows, open to the spring air. I can't even pretend; my face is turned toward the outdoors and a pleasant smile has planted itself across my face and will not budge. It's the aroma of spring that grabs me, and has grabbed me every year since. That smell- the combination of rain and dirt and flowers and life- causes my heart to leap, my eyes to water, my being to swell in delight. It's that smell that is wafting into my apartment right this moment.
And on this morning, as with most other mornings spent at home, I eat fried eggs with plentiful cheese. My mom's favorite. It's the simplest breakfast, but happens to be the most comforting. Growing up it was cereal for breakfast every single morning. (And if I could have my way it would still be. I love cereal basically as much as I love life.) But now the norm is eggs. Peppery eggs and hot coffee and some fresh fruit.
Please, join me in the revelry. Fry yourself some eggs, plop down next to a window, and sip your coffee. And allow your soul to brim with gratitude.
- 2 large eggs
- glug of olive oil or ghee
- salt and pepper
- parmesan or cheddar cheese
Get your pan very hot, so that it sizzles when you splash a bit of water on it. Add olive oil or ghee and swirl to coat the pan. Crack the eggs into the pan and use a fork to break the yolks and make it all one even layer. Generously add salt and pepper. Flip after a minute or two, then immediately put cheese on top and turn off the heat. Let sit for another minute or two, then fold in half so the cheese melts between two layers. Serve with fresh fruit and avocado and piping hot coffee.