pensive

Everything is waiting for spring, including me. Signs are everywhere, but nothing too definite has popped out of the soot-black snowdrifts yet.


I did see this little guy outside our door yesterday, though--certainly promising. (So my next sentence was going to be, "Although I think he may be a plant." Which I intended to be a suggestion that this flower was purposely, deceptively placed by some winter fairy-type-creature to raise false hope about the return of spring. It took me quite a few seconds to realize that suggesting that this flower is, indeed, a plant may not be the most groundbreaking observation I've ever made.)

I need spring to be here! I'm getting tired of my winter clothes. I don't have very many--something I realized when I cleaned out & organized my closet last week. I've got (literally) piles of warm-weather shirts and skirts and capris and the like begging me to dust them off, but it's still too dang cold outside for all my favorites.


In any case, I think I can feel some stirrings of life underneath all the dead grass and bark all over the place. Yesterday I climbed a tree and looked around, partially to encourage said stirrings, partially because I'm really excited for spring this year and I keep getting fooled into thinking it's here. (Can you see me in the tree?)


It's coming. I know it. I've never been in love in springtime before, but I can tell it's going to be fun. There's even something magical about the way late-afternoon sunlight--that squinty, yellow, half-light time of day when it's hard to drive and harder to think--draws shadows over everything when you see it with enchanted eyes.