Spring.

The sun smells of spring today, the earth stirring from its winter slumber, beneath sheets of sleet and snow.
The uplifted branches of the winter bare trees are suddenly filled with the colorful chatter and flutter of brightly colored feathers and birdsong.
It makes me want to throw open every window in our house, and let the spring wind dance through;running playful fingers through the curtains, making them tremble with their laughter; and filling our hallway with the friendly, familiar voices of spring.

I don't want to wear pants. No socks or jackets or hats. Not on days like this. I want flowing dresses over bare legs, arms outstretched, ready to be re-freckled by the kisses of the sun. Bare feet tangled in thickly growing grass we lie upon soaking in the earth, the smell of grass like far off barbecues and watermelon rind. Close our eyes so that when we open them again everything is bright and the sky, seven shades more blue.
The sliver of warm today makes me yearn for the hot sidewalks of summer. The sticky popsicle evenings dripping on our bare freckled arms, the setting sun making long fingered shadows from our matchstick chairs.

Weather like this makes me want to take out my hair and run through the park, just to celebrate. The love of wild life returning after so much cold. And so much strife.

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