Monday Mornings

not myphotos, not taken today, all photos of Hwy 280 from Flickr

Every Monday morning Vivian and I hit the road and head up Highway 280 for a 9AM date with our speech therapist. It's the prettiest stretch of freeway in these parts, and this is my favorite time of year to drive it. Daffodils bloom on the side of this freeway (butter yellow and golden yellow!). Mustard flowers cluster and bend in the wind. Cows graze. Hills gently roll, covered in a carpet of green grass. Oak trees stand old and craggy as always, but spring's influence makes them more appear more gentle during this sweet spot of a little bit winter, a little bit spring.

Today is drippy. Lots of wind and and lots of rain. But on our drive up to speech this morning we saw five rainbows, and I kid you not, we drove through the pot of gold.

Two years ago, 12 weeks pregnant, I drove this same stretch of freeway to and from work each day. The Weepies were on repeat, I admired daffodils, looked for deer and hoped and prayed for a healthy baby. My pants still fit, my appetite was just starting to return, and for the first time in a long time March was less about melancholy and more about capturing lovely little moments before our new little person entered our world.

It's funny how so much has changed, but at the heart of it, it's all still the same. A stunningly beautiful stretch of highway and hope, love and faith for my daughter. Not bad for a Monday morning commute.