spring equinox rears its head and settles in an awkward crouch on its haunches. there is no proper footing now due to the drift of snow blanketing the city. the soft flakes fluff the concrete and tar and branches and eyelashes. everything goes all silent and swirls flutter about.
the winter elongates its stride and steps in front of springtime like a brash suitor trying to impress a beautiful stranger in public. of course it's gauche, but people fall for it all the time. i have to remember that being an observer to the behind-the-scenes of this reality, doesn't mean to live a life unattached in the background.
and i feel that i'm too young to worry about looking foolish anymore, and too old to give a damn about judgement or shame or worry or any of the other conceived barriers of happiness, joy, personal delight, and forward motions.
with a scarf wrapped up close to my neck and face, the sharp edges of the city go soft and the blaring quality of the echoes dampen. there's such a beauty is all things at the beginning of a snowfall. there's such a beauty to most beginnings.
do one thing good for yourself and for the place you live in.