12
March 2003
|
Atlanta is in bloom. Not full bloom, not yet anyway, but in bloom it is, indeed. I have my first iced coffee of the season, my windows are open and Montego is cashed out from an early afternoon chasing geese in Lullwater Park. I feel so lucky to finally live in a place where Spring doesn't have to creep in under a layer of chill grayness but can instead charge its way into the world with wide open arms and face full of sunshine. These are the kinds of days where you feel like anything is possible and love must certainly be right around the corner. These are the kinds of days that make me a little wistful for college, as this is exactly the kind of day that pushes Miamians out onto the quads with Frisbees, makes them pull couches onto porches and light up barbecues and sends their Labradors romping. Spring is the physical manifestation of the cliché that Life Goes On. We see it in the Cardinal. We see it in the Dogwood. We see it in the green burst of grass. And no matter how intellectually ingrained the knowledge that the rain and snow will eventually end and that the sun will shine again, it still feels like a rebirth every time. There's a reason we still celebrate the rainbow, after all. I've seen a million blue skies over many different cities but none have been as blue or as clear as the one over me right now. I feel like that the past year has been a season of sowing. I replanted myself and my roots finally feel strong again. And so now it's time for me to reap. It's time for me to bloom. The notify can't wait for the Dogwood Festival.
|
