i want the green to race it's way towards me. i want the scent of spring. i want the fresh spicy smell of wet earth and fresh green light. i want my heart to race with it's sharp dream of summer. i want the blur of it. i want the slam of screen doors. i want the tickle of cut grass in my throat. i want the jungle of my front garden, spicy with lavender. i want open windows and leaves shivering on the trees. i want the scent of the lake drifting through the yard mixing with barbecue and sunscreen. i want the sound of my husband's guitar drifting from the porch. i want the squeak of the porchswing and the squeal of children. i want to wander without shoes for weeks. i want the snap of sheets on the line and the smell of sun cooked into cotton. and mostly i want the heat of the sun and the cool of the lake as i sift through pebbles at our little piece of beach bringing home buckets of the smooth and mysterious beach glass.