Easter Baskets

This year, a few lovely lady friends and I created an Easter Basket Exchange, where the ladies sent me their addresses and I coordinated basket exchanges, via mail, for all of us. I believe that all of the lovely ladies who responded to my invite with a resounding YES! wanted to re-create that joy in their lives that Easter brings. Correction: that the Easter Basket brings.

My favorite Easter Basket memory is from when I was around five years old. In fact, it's a memory that comes out of a white haze-- just a few seconds of film, really, before returning to the haze that's erased most of my childhood impressions. My mom used to hide our baskets, and we'd have to walk around the house as she shouted, "hot!" or "cold!" depending on how close we were. She'd hide them in closets, under the kitchen sink, and then there was this favorite memory:

I was standing by the glass doors of our living room and looking out into the sweeping backyard to see all of our Easter baskets hanging from the branches of our ancient and gnarly plum tree. It was like a magical dream come true. An old and decrepit tree that sprouted colorful Easter baskets overnight. That memory, that vision, will always be with me.

And so I have tried to recreate it with my friends. Not that I expect anything hanging from a tree, but because I love the Easter magic of it all. Thanks, Mom.

* photo by Jens Meyer