Like the snow in the woods melting into a network of babbling brooks, Spring pours out into my veins. Every moment in the sunlight is an opportunity for my freckles to blossom. Flowers start appearing, snowdrops at first, then crocuses, even a daring daffodil. Soon it will be time. No more hiding behind bobbled layers, itchy tights or knotted hair from scarves. I long for the first day of dusty plimsolls on cobbled streets, and feeling a soft lulling breeze catch my skirt. I want to run on freshly swept streets and in budding tree woods. You can’t help but smile, when Spring is here!
I’ve stop heading straight for rails of black, grey and dark shades in shops. Colours that never appeal to me are suddenly all I want. Soon I will stop moving on autopilot in the mornings, ending the routine grabbing something from a pile of folded jersey basics, slipping on yesterday’s jeans and stepping into beat up boots, cowering under the same old tired black coat. Suddenly yellow is on my mind, the lightest of pastel shades and interestingly muted brights. This spring will be a good one, I can feel it already.