The Eighteenth of March

SPRING is here, folks! And with it, I hope, some motivation.

I took the bins out this afternoon and then I was just captivated by the beauty of the greenery rolling away from me. So instead of walking back indoors to the sanctity of my small little room and my warm bed, I embraced the day. I was wearing a very thin dress, but it flowed so freely around my bare legs and allowed the breeze to surge up along my skin, spreading itself over my back and along my arms and it was such a refreshing feeling. Gone, I hope, are the days of wrapping up against the elements. I felt as though I wanted to embrace them today. I walked along the path towards the lake, and there was full sunshine beaming down, accompanied by the smallest breath of clean air that carried the gentle scent of cut grass and some sweet springtime blossom.

The main lawns have been freshly mown, and the birds chirp constantly. I mean constantly, folks, when I say it. This morning a cold fog hung dankly over the world, and I thought, surely this must deaden things a little, no?

No, of course not. If anything, the birds chimed louder together, and oh how melodious they sounded. There is something so lively and heartening about the chirp of a bird. All those songs, I think, sailing through the skies, all those small feathery beings, dancing from tree to tree. They cock their heads so cheerful and inquisitive. One doesn’t have the heart to feel down. They are a joy upon this earth. I would hate to imagine how bleak it would be if there were no birds chirping. Just imagine! The world would seem ever so dead.

Also I have noticed that more often than not, a heavy morning fog gives way to a day of wondrous sunshine. I want to plant things and emerge from this hibernation of depression brought on, I like to make myself believe, by the winter.

It’s the eighteenth of March, dear readers. I will try not to allow this happiness to be hampered by the fear of him. I will try to let myself embrace it. I remember how my last bout of happiness dropped with a sickening thud when he contacted me again. It was so recent, and I berated myself bitterly for letting myself enjoy something.

But I shan’t today. Today is too beautiful to let it slide behind another door of disheartenment. It’s SPRING, folks! Do you hear me? Spring!

2 thoughts on “The Eighteenth of March

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