A balmy wind appears out of nowhere, warming the still-chilly late winter air and gently prodding sleepy buds from their hiding places. With the breeze comes the scent of something lovely--wildflower perfume, roads warming after a rain, and home baked bread all in one.
I step outside and stand on the front porch, basking in the sunlight, inhaling deeply; taking a breath of spring.
I sit in the sun and gaze at the world around me. At the moment, there is nowhere I would rather be: this is my seraglio, my nature palace spotted with sunlight. The yellow daffodils beside the porch are beginning to lift their heads after a long winter nap. I've watched them bloom every spring for so many years, in that same spot, beside the bottom porch step.
Funny how time flies, how seasons pass in a blink.
I pull off my socks and leap into the mossy grass beneath me. It is cold and wet, reminding me that winter is still here--today the sun shines, tomorrow the rain pours. Nevertheless, I curl my toes between the green blades and forget the chill still within the ground.
Winter can live out its course; I've had a breath of spring.