If you live in California, you just don’t understand. If you live in Mexico (any of the three Mexican countries!) you won’t get it. If you reside in the everyday lush, warm, sunny skies of Hawaii, you won’t have the foggiest notion of what I’m talking about.
But if you live in Boston, or any other place where there are four seasons, you will probably feel me. I am talking about Spring. I am talking about the hope and optimism that heats up my down coat-covered soul when the crocuses pop out of the dirt, the temperatures begin to rise and the sun stays up there in the sky longer and longer. I am talking about the feeling of possibility this season brings on. I am wildly inspired by it every year. It doesn’t ever get old. It’s like Christmas morning to a five-year-old combined with a jewelry shopping spree and an all-you-can-eat pasta bar in Italy.
I am not a winter girl. I am a warm weather only person. I am in season right now. And holy gratitude for that.
