…everything changed. Suddenly I’m walking around this city without a coat, without a care, with a steady pace and a calm heart. Spring had started to dangle its warm sunlight and longer days in front of our cold noses here and there, teasing and flirting in the subtlest ways…but I thought a shift like this would be gradual, that these changes would take time and patience and all the hope I could scrounge up after nearly running out, after another winter threatened to stay. But today…last night and today…spring came…and I can’t quite say how it managed to arrive. Not with the snap of my fingers; no, even a tiny snap is too loud, too violent, too sudden. There was no fanfare, nor any hesitation. It just walked right in like it owned the place and wrapped its gentle breezes around my shoulders as I breathed a sigh of relief. As I soaked up every second and every step of my walk to work, my walk to dinner, my walk home. As I spied through tinted lenses on runners and diners and drinkers and families and couples and people just like me, all outside, all holding their heads a little higher, walking a little lighter, as if to say “We made it, again. We survived. We’re still here”.
I want to remember today, when we’re well into spring, when we’re in the heart, the heat, of summer; when I’m rushing around trying to make the most of a sunny day, or rushing around forgetting to notice a sunny day. Today, I was satisfied with simply pausing at a busy intersection and closing my eyes and raising my face up towards the sun’s light. I felt alive: I made it. I survived. I’m still here.
A pretty, hopeful song, for a pretty, hopeful day.