Bare feet on pavement.
The gritty feeling under my toes starts my mind running to summer.
I feel the sweating bottle of something delicious chilling my hand.
I smell the fire burning in our fire pit as my kids ask for one more marshmallow.
I hear the summer music as it floats through the air of our backyard, calming anything it touches.
I see the pinks and purples of my flowers blowing softly on the breeze.
I taste the homemade honey BBQ as it drips from the fall-off-the-bone ribs we just finished on the grill.
These warm March days are a tease of what’s to come. But I’ll take it.
Just so I can put my bare feet on pavement.