Spring
Today is the day when my skin feels warm as we walk our path, even with the the breeze whipping off the water and into the water, frothing up some small whitecaps, and the ferry humming by, not noticing me.
Today is the day when the light, unfettered and unfiltered by any cloud, first infuses everything, then bounces off every single thing, sparking all of the colors into an impossibly electric glow.
Around here, it seems to go like this, though it’s not a good idea to count on it: that the May flowers burst boldly up whenever they like, not waiting for May at all, not waiting their turn, not waiting for the cherry blooms, now nearly spent harbingers, to flutter down from the trees.
We know well, as we walk, that soon the roses will come, that soon we will hunt for blackberries in all our secret places, while wondering again at the way time slips so easily around us and away from us. Soon, we will wonder again where summer went.
But today is the day, since we think we know what’s coming, when even the most reluctant swimmer feels moved to just touch the icy cold water, when we turn our faces up, and the sun shining down, not noticing me.
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