One swallow summer does not make.
One ray of sun and chirpy sounds spring do not make, I suppose.
And yet, although I have been confined to my room for a number of days now (the flu), the change in light makes a world of difference.
I love spring. It is not something I can explain. There are many things I say I love and then slowly drift away from; spring is not one of them.
It’s so subtle, too subtle almost. Contrary to winter which tends to form one big mushy blob with autumn, dragging on endlessly, spring is, sadly, a blink and you miss it season.
Perhaps I’m just saying that because, as my favourite time of year, I wished it would last longer. Or maybe because there’s always a sense of suspense. We never really know when winter will decide to pack up its black clouds of despair and move off (for good).
I like the fact there are no high expectations in spring. Summer is supposed to be sunny, warm, a time for fun, freedom, new experiences. Autumn is back to school/ work, a time for starting new projects, giving thanks, taking stock of the year. Winter is about misery, the end of year celebrations (unavoidably), the new year celebrations.
All I feel spring is telling me is: « Good job! You made it through winter! Now grab a latte and chill, it’s clear sailing from now on mate! »
In the meantime, here are a few pictures I trudged through the wind, rain, and snow to get. Hopefully, gig-going will soon become less of an ordeal: my batteries are wearing very thin.