North Face outlet
Tuesday was one of those days we savor on the Outer Banks. It was one of those rare January afternoons that renew our spirit and feed our desperate desire to believe that spring may really be around the corner, that life will surely blossom around us again and the air will feel warm against our skin.
Tuesday was 60 degrees and sunny. I didn't dread going outside. I didn't dread it because it was not spitting rain all day, the kind of rain that is just enough that you have to keep the windshield wipers on. The sky was not a gray blanket pressing down, suffocating us with its bleakness. And north face denali jacket sale the wind was not beating on our faces. It was not forcing us to put on another layer of clothing or sending us to the thermostat to be sure that it really was set on a reasonable temperature.
January and February are admittedly not my favorite months to live on the Outer Banks. In fact, I hate them with a passion. I have since the first year I moved here. During these months I place bright, red X marks on my calendar religiously and celebrate the days when I can flip the calendar to a new month, signally the slow waltz toward spring on the Outer Banks.
But northface jackets on sale Tuesday was one of those days that help us survive these long winter months the months we barrel through with our heads down to protect us from the cold, relentless northeast wind.
Tuesday, we could stand outside and take a long, deep breath. We could take a walk, chat outside with neighbors and take our time checking the mailbox.
On days like these, Outer Banks children intuitively shed their shoes and coats when they exit the school buildings. They rummage through their closets looking for shorts and Tshirts and they exalt in the ability to walk outside without a jacket on.
On days like these, we rarely hear the words, "I'm bored." Instead, we hear delighted little voices outside, basketballs bouncing, children playing until dusk.
We need days like these on the Outer Banks. Maybe it is because we are so spoiled for much of the year. Maybe we are spoiled by our natural world that generously bombards our senses on a daily basis and then when it lies dormant, we are left wondering what happened to all that beauty. We are left to huddle inside, wondering if it will ever return.
Maybe we need days like this because all the darkness, the overcast and the pounding surf taunt us by reminding us how much things can change in a few short months. For us, the leaves don't just fall from the trees in late November. Our beaches turn cold, our sky turns gray and our wind blows fiercely.