70 and Sunny
The music room at Western Hills Elementary School in West Des Moines
INDIANOLA, IA - Thanks to our schedule, we're back in Indianola for the last couple days of this week, working in schools in Des Moines through tomorrow. Upon our return home on Wednesday afternoon, we were greeted by torrential rain. Today, however, was a different story. By afternoon, the early morning clouds gave way to a glorious 70-degree spring day.
With each day, I become increasingly aware of how
different a place Iowa is now than it was when I got here in January. I've
called Indianola my home for longer than three months, but it's only now that
I'm beginning to see people emerge from their homes. The lawns in front of the
houses are already a brilliant emerald green. Jogging through town this
afternoon, I saw residents tending to their sidewalks with brooms and dustpans,
perhaps convinced that spring is here to stay. I shared the sidewalks with
students from Simpson College, their golden pony tails bobbing up and down as
they ran.
I've noticed that Iowans have a passion for motorcycles that may be surpassed only by their unflagging devotion to John Deere farm machinery. With the arrival of the spring sun, the Harleys and Kawasakis are coming out of the garages and the local storage centers. If this beautiful weather lasts into next week, I'm sure we'll ride beside many of them on Interstate 80. The sight of a pack of Harleys cutting a swath through the rolling maize will be something to behold.
As green as the grass was and as warm as the sun felt today, there was one thing about my jog that really brought it home that the seasons are truly on the move: the smell of outdoor cooking. Moving at my deliberate pace through the neighborhood of one- and two-story homes, my nose was greeted by the familiar smell of hot dogs and hamburgers on an open grill. Nothing heralds the arrival of spring quite like the cookout.
The mere mention of it is enough to make my mouth water and my tongue crave the inimitable sour goodness of fluorescent yellow mustard. Few things make me happier than a charred frankfurter on a poppy seed bun, and the sweet aroma of Indianola on an afternoon in early April reminded me that my first hot dog of the season can't be too far off in the future.
I've noticed that Iowans have a passion for motorcycles that may be surpassed only by their unflagging devotion to John Deere farm machinery. With the arrival of the spring sun, the Harleys and Kawasakis are coming out of the garages and the local storage centers. If this beautiful weather lasts into next week, I'm sure we'll ride beside many of them on Interstate 80. The sight of a pack of Harleys cutting a swath through the rolling maize will be something to behold.
As green as the grass was and as warm as the sun felt today, there was one thing about my jog that really brought it home that the seasons are truly on the move: the smell of outdoor cooking. Moving at my deliberate pace through the neighborhood of one- and two-story homes, my nose was greeted by the familiar smell of hot dogs and hamburgers on an open grill. Nothing heralds the arrival of spring quite like the cookout.
The mere mention of it is enough to make my mouth water and my tongue crave the inimitable sour goodness of fluorescent yellow mustard. Few things make me happier than a charred frankfurter on a poppy seed bun, and the sweet aroma of Indianola on an afternoon in early April reminded me that my first hot dog of the season can't be too far off in the future.
Posted: Thu - April 7, 2005 at 09:42 PM
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Published On: Apr 07, 2005 09:42 PM
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Published On: Apr 07, 2005 09:42 PM