From the editor
Have you ever wanted something so much that it started to work against you?
I found myself in that situation recently. After a long winter, I have been more than ready for spring to arrive. I’ve been watching for it, almost willing it to come — noticing every small sign along the way: perennial flowers pushing through the soil, the first brave buds of daffodils, the subtle shift in the air hinting at longer, brighter days.
So when my two dogs came barreling through the yard the other day and trampled right over those early blooms, I overreacted. “That’s bad!” I yelled in a stern tone. You would have thought they had done something far worse. I scolded them, frustrated and protective over something so small. As I looked at their confused faces, it hit me — this wasn’t about them. It was about me holding on too tightly.
Sometimes, when we want something so badly — a new season, a fresh start, a change — we grip it so hard that we lose sight of the bigger picture. We forget to enjoy the process, the natural unfolding. Watching paint dry does not make it dry faster. It’s not a consistent improvement either. Some days it rains when you’re waiting for the paint to dry. I apologized to my pups, gave them a few extra pats, and we walked around the neighborhood.
But despite a few setbacks, we can see little signs of spring. My favorite is the sound of birds outside my window in the morning. Last week’s unexpected 70-degree day felt like a gift — a preview of what’s ahead.
There’s an energy returning — not just in nature, but in people, too. You can feel it in conversations, in plans being made, in the quiet excitement of what lies ahead. There’s a noticeable lift in spirits this time of year. After months spent indoors, the simple act of being outside feels delightful. Even the dogs and I have a little extra pep in our step these days during our morning and evening walks.
With Easter and Passover just around the corner, calendars are beginning to fill. Families are gathering, events are popping up across our communities, and that familiar buzz of spring at the Shore is coming back to life.
Spring doesn’t flip like a switch. It comes in gradually — a warmer afternoon, a longer evening, a few more people out walking, lingering, reconnecting. The change is subtle, but steady, and it’s enough to shift the rhythm of our days.
Thank you for reading Shore Local and for continuing to support the people, places and stories that make our community so special.
Peace & Love, Cindy
