Spring, so far, is excruciating in Chicago. There is this unending thought that it might just be easier to sew my sleeping bag-like jacket to myself, and that I will never know the feeling of sunshine on my toes again. I mean, that’s really scary.
But, however terrible the beginning is, it does make for good reading time. If you’re going to be holed up in your apartment, you might as well make the best of it.
There is also the nakedness of trees that really is something else. I know we are all aching for them to hear our screams to have them come back to life, but there is a true beauty to see the purity in a leafless tree. It cannot keep a secret within its branches.
There is the stiffness to a neighborhood in the early stages of spring, too. I recall one day of warmth we had recently and I heard the bellows of laughter from little ones. I honestly forgot about children during the winter, so it was good to be reminded that children bring the green to the grass and a break in the clouds.
I know that these chilly spring showers will eventually cease, and we can all be ourselves again. The buds from trees will respond to our cries, iced tea will be chosen over hot tea, and my toes will twinkle in sandals. Scary spring will mature and become pretty spring.
Photos: Me // Canon Rebel T2i, 50mm
