A Day Like Yesterday

Yesterday was my favorite day of the year so far. And this is why:



It was finally spring. I planted my little flowers in my box just in time for my perfect weather day. I'm a little obsessed with weather. Not like the "checking the weather report every five minutes and reading books about how tornadoes form" kind of obsessed. My obsession really is not about the weather but about my mood. I'm obsessed with my mood.

I feel the most comfortable on a day like yesterday. It was 61 degrees but it felt like 70. The sky was a bright gray and smelled like rain and fresh mulch all day. Not cold and rainy, not sweltering hot...just perfect. The kind of day when I can sit on my deck and read a book without feeling guilty that I'm not out riding a bike or playing at the beach. The kind of day where I can walk around my neighborhood without my toes freezing or my umbrella turning inside out.

The kind of day that matches my nearly perpetual mood. Not threatening, not exuberant, not oppressive. A little on the melancholy side but with a lightness that delights in remembering and looks ahead with realism.

And there are certain activities that I only like to do on these days where I truly feel like myself. Reading, eating and watching movies immediately come to mind, although yesterday was far more productive than I imagined it would be. But there are other things, like shopping for a used novel or playing through a new piano book, that can only be truly and fully enjoyed on a day like yesterday. Oh I can do these and a number of other activities on any given day, but there is something deeply satisfying to me about a slightly melancholic day, when I am both propelled out to small accomplishments and lulled to my room for soul-rest.

Hot, sunny days make me a bit anxious. I feel this pressure to get out and enjoy the weather, when really I'm not an outdoorsy person. I get headaches from the heat, I hate getting sunburns, I'm afraid of deep water, I don't have a bike, and I am terrified of competitive sports.

Cold, dark winter days are cozy, but tromping through snow and getting kids in and out of sopping clothes lost its charm for me years ago. Not to mention the fact that it gets dark at 4:30. Darkness on that level oppresses the mind.

So a drizzly spring day really is the best. I hope for a long spring full of these days.

What's your favorite weather? When do you feel truly at peace with your environment?

Spring Cleaning

The Big Switch.

That day when I decide the weather has gotten warm enough to dig my shorts and tank tops out of storage and pack away my sweaters and down jackets. A day which, incidentally, I always regret a week later when the temperature has dropped back down to sweater weather.

Regardless, I love this day. Not as much as I love getting my sweaters back out in the fall though--just a personal preference. But I love the springtime switch too, because it brings with it a freshness that promises new beginnings and long days. I find bright colors that, like me, have been sleeping all winter. I get to wake up, finding energy in bright pinks, oranges and blues.

And inevitably I find shorts that I wore last year but suddenly look like they came straight from 1992. I find blouses that I hang in my closet every year and have, to my sudden realization this year, only worn once. I find skirts that look too frumpy this year, scarves that inexplicably don't match anything in my wardrobe, and dresses that I find myself embarrassed to recall wearing last summer for a number of reasons.

These clothes get (finally) tossed in the donation bag. Some of these items have nearly ended up in the bag year after year, but somehow I hang on to them one more year. Then, one year, it's just time for them to be gone. No question.

I find that fascinating about myself. I wonder if it's true for all of us.

I hang on to things, people, places and ideas for so long--and then, one day, I'm ready to let go. And I wonder why I held on so long. I am suddenly ready to move on. I just wasn't ready before, although I can't articulate how or when or why my hands (mind, heart) finally opened.

What are you holding on to, not quite able to toss into the bag yet? What did you finally let go of this year, this week?

Is there anything that needs to be purged for this new season of your life?

Spring is

spring is something catching
your eye
opening to possibility
a peek of purple
a corner of bare earth
revealing
an invitation.

spring is foreplay.
the waiting
the slow touches
buds tantalizingly split
open flowers
pushing gently then harder

finally unable to wait
spring is letting go
waking up
one morning to avenues
lined with so many shades of green
I can only name
a fraction
lime, emerald, bright...
and here I lose words
only a sense of covering
a warm and comfortable
exhale
after the burst
from death to life
first tentative
then hungry