The light this time of year is deceiving. The wind howls, and yet the sun shines and the cold goes through me and the chill that lingers lasts for hours on end. I find myself standing by the windows, soaking up the warmth of the light, reflecting off of nature that I've brought inside and transparent and fragile glass made of melted sand. The chill of this spring has me bundled up, wanting just a bit more. Waiting just a bit longer. Dreaming from inside of outer warmth and basking in balmy breezes...
