The past few mornings when I’ve opened the door to head out to run, I’ve been greeted by the sound of chirping birds, which has been a noticeable, and welcome, change. I don’t know how birds’ internal clocks operate. Maybe they can see some hint of the rising sun that I can not yet detect, and part of the reason I started to notice was that it was very dark and suddenly, oddly loud. At any rate, I’ve appreciated the newly soundtracked start to my runs and have started to get spring fever in a big way.
I mean, this view does not exactly scream frolicking tweets:
As much as I’ve appreciated it, I’m also ready to retire my trusty reflective vest for the season.
I’m ready for short sleeves and jacket-less mornings. I’m ready to wear shoes that don’t require socks. Mostly, I’m ready to open my door and see some light. I excited for greenery and blooms, that first week when you suddenly notice how great being outside smells. I’m ready to spend weekend mornings (and afternoons) on my front porch. I love that spring feels so freeing.
I like all four seasons, and I did feel a little cheated not to have had more of a winter this year, but my favorite months are the warmer, sunnier ones. All my favorite childhood memories involve the beach, the pool, biking around the neighborhood. I yearn to be outside and any time I’ve been forced to go for long stretches without feeling the fresh air on my skin in some way or another I feel incomplete, cut off. Those years I spent with a long commute weren’t great for this reason alone.
The picture at the top of my post was taken almost two years ago and is dated April 30, so I know we’re getting closer and closer. I don’t have a lot to say today, but just thought I’d share my longing in case you’re feeling it too.
Dreaming of that first sunny, flowery morning,
P.S. This is day 17 of my writing challenge.