Walls fall down

It's spring again. Every wave of spring is different: the first day it's comfortable going outside in the snow in a tank top; the first warm breeze; the first smell of soil; the first sight of soil; the first transplants sprouting in the house; the first smell of green; water everywhere; catkins; the first green on the soil; the first thaw of soil; most of the ground snowfree; the first night that doesn't freeze; the first day I can let the fire go out; the first day I'm comfy in only farm boots; the first sunburn; the first day I'm too hot; the day the ice comes off the lake; the first goslings; the first food from the garden (chives this year).

Today was the first day it felt expansive out driving through town. Sunroof, windows open, people with sleeveless shirts. The world feels big and welcoming on days like this. I can go out into it without armour.

Humans are mostly terrible right now, but the world is so lovely.

A couple weeks till squash and tomatoes go in the ground.

Walls fall down

It's spring again. Every wave of spring is different: the first day it's comfortable going outside in the snow in a tank top; the first warm breeze; the first smell of soil; the first sight of soil; the first transplants sprouting in the house; the first smell of green; water everywhere; catkins; the first green on the soil; the first thaw of soil; most of the ground snowfree; the first night that doesn't freeze; the first day I can let the fire go out; the first day I'm comfy in only farm boots; the first sunburn; the first day I'm too hot; the day the ice comes off the lake; the first goslings; the first food from the garden (chives this year).

Today was the first day it felt expansive out driving through town. Sunroof, windows open, people with sleeveless shirts. The world feels big and welcoming on days like this. I can go out into it without armour.

Humans are mostly terrible right now, but the world is so lovely.

A couple weeks till squash and tomatoes go in the ground.