I love the spring time change. Adore it. I may wake up groggy for a few days, but that’s no match for my extreme joy in the evenings.
Last night, as I walked back from the train, basking in one of the first really warm days of the spring, I waved to my neighbors playing in the playground with their kids. Before dinner, Sandy and I jogged – er, well, he jogged, and I meandered slowly – on the path in River Park while the sun set slowly. We ate dinner on the porch, where it was light enough to work on the Sunday Times crossword puzzle.
On spring evenings, it is hard to be depressed about my transitional (read: bad) situation at work, easy to feel like everything’s going to work out ok. Awwww.
See, I’m a totally sappy, all-out sucker for the spring. Nothing you can say about the fact that it’s probably back to 50 and raining can slow me down. (But, just in case: don’t. It’s like kicking a puppy.)