It’s been a few days and I don’t know if I want to or even want to try being able to keep up a diary log like that… It was fun, though, and I liked the writing every day. But one of my favorite proverbs, a Samosa proverb, says, “When the music changes, so too does the dance.”
And the music has changed, again, and it is changing. The wind is blowing so strong today. I feel a clenching feeling when I think about Texas and how it’s like perfect degrees outside. And here it’s still barren.
Last week I got so excited for spring but now I look out the window and brown, scraggly trees reach straight up, aiming to outgrow skyscrapers.
I’m not even mad that it’s so un-springy looking: it’s cold. Like, I know for New York thirty-four degrees farenheit is warm, and I agree, but it’s still cold!
Je suis cold.
But the window’s open and waves of cool, fresh air push past the warmth of my socks, and it feels nice, briefly, then it gets too cold. I have to moderate the temp in here.
I think I’ll go for a walk and see what evidence of spring I find. I saw tulips from the window – that’ll be my first stop.
Springing into spring,