There’s something about the spring time and the rain and the aftermath. The way bright green budding leaves are in bright, stark contrast with the gloomy, grey skies. I breathe in, taking the scent of mud and flowers and moisture, and think to myself that the “something” is in the spring time air. Could it be the way the coolness or humidity that follows the rain sticks to my skin and fills my mind with ideas and my heart with love? Maybe.
Thinking back to the night before when I fell asleep with the window open, the night breeze nudging me from consciousness, I think that this must be it. The “something” about spring. It’s the window that can be kept open throughout my slumber, letting the cool air keep my comfortable, filling my room with the sound of crickets at night and hungry birds in the morning.
Oh, maybe that’s it. The birds and the early morning. The way they don’t care as I pull out my camera, capturing them as they enjoy their morning feast. I sit back and decide to just listen to the individual calls, learning to distinguish each species, and I say to myself “this is the most calm and happy and addicted I’ve felt in a while”.
And then I realize that this is the “something” about spring. The peace that I feel, that’s comprised of the somethings I listed above. It’s the slow renewal of colour and activity, the calm before the hot summer where everything is at it’s peak. It’s the simple things like finally being able to wear my Birkenstocks, or the soft tap tap tap of the raindrops hitting my window sill. It’s the transitional weather that takes you by the hand and guides your experience of all things anew.