It's March 5th, it's snowing, and yes, it's still cold. Lately, I've been scrolling two and three weeks forward on weather predicting websites staring longingly at days in the 40s. Rain will wash away the snow, the earth will soften, little green buds with stubbornly push their way through bark, and tiny blades of grass will grow neon in the dirt. Spring will be here shortly, I just need to persevere in my patience, air out my spring dresses, daydream about dry cleaning my tired winter coat, and push through just like the buds in the bark.
I walked to the train in the snow, short of breath from yet another winter cold, and then this miraculous bundle of pink and red balloons blew across my path brightening my morning, reflecting their color and warmth onto the surrounding snow. It's the quiet moments like these that push me to recognize how fleeting all of this is, and that even a snowy grey day can make way for pops of color, making the reds and pinks seem that much brighter.
Spring, I see you. I beg of you, please come swiftly and sweetly.