I love the warmth. The sunshine spreading over my skin, birds singing, old people mowing lawns in the middle of the day. It reminds me of Christmas and baking and comfortable clothes and my friends and it immediately sends me into this tranquil and optimistic state where I am just enthusiastic about life.
I love Spring. I thought I loved summer, but summer is sweat and sunburn and spiders everywhere. Everywhere. I do, admittedly, still love summer. Family visits and motivation mingling with laziness and the misguided hope of new year. But what I love is Spring.
Spring is the rich and rewarding moment before summer. Like a pause for breath, where we have all the perks of summer (warmth, green grass, sandals, late sunsets), minus summer’s harshness, with just a dash of excitement that summer’s on its way.
I love Spring because it’s almost summer. And we’re happiest when bright things are ahead.
I love Spring, in case you haven’t noticed, because there are blossoms and flowers and baby animals and things to look forward to.
My skin invites the sunshine, soaking it up and rewarding me with a burst of sunshine into my personality, to match the sky.
A morning scent of freshly cut grass, an afternoon scent of sun showers.
Spring is here and I’m just a little bit excited.
(Except there was already a huge spider in the house tonight and I’m not prepared for this yet. Not now, probably not ever.)