Just last week it was bitter cold. We were wearing our gloves inside. The air seemed brittle. I didn’t want to touch it.
This morning I drove through miles of silver clouds. The still bare trees emerged out of the blueish haze so near the side of the road — haunting and softly beautiful. I wanted to stay there, to stop and experience the slow shifting of light and moisture.
This evening all was absolutely clear, deliciously warm. The clouds didn’t even sneak into the sky until I was 10 miles from home. This expansion of space was breathtaking. My heart and lungs ached to take it in.
At home with the windows open, I was surprised by the distinctive sound of Spring peepers. Maybe we have finally arrived, once again, at the sweetest season.