Monday, March 1, 2010
When You Know its Spring
Its time to dream about how you're going to decorate your deck, you see flowers and billowy outdoor curtains, an outdoor chaise. You're sitting in your bay window, writing and dreaming, and the window is open, a cool night breeze sneaking inside. The sound of snow melting: that gurgle, drip and trickle of water pouring down gutters and spouts. Wet feet in leather boots. The smell changes, there is a smell, something new in the air, winter is ending, and birds are beginning to sing. Cleaning the house on a Sunday afternoon, cold air seeping through open windows, but the windows remain open because they can be.
I spent the afternoon playing in the park yesterday, as Shayne took photos. The sun was bright, and all around me was the sound of melting. Swinging on the swings, I remembered swinging on that same swing last spring. That magical evening, drunk on wine, music in my ears, swinging alone late at night, the shapes of buds emerging on the trees in the moonlight. Yesterday was sunfilled, children without hats. I ran through the snow, making giant snowballs with wet gloves, water seeping up inside my boots, dripping off rooftops. My old rooftop in view down the street, my old windows where Simon used to sit and watch the birds. The window into my little third floor studio where my "holy handbag" painting was painted, the namesake for this blog.
As soon as you hear that word "March" you know its coming. Springtime. Fresh air. The darkness begins to lift, you don't feel the cold so much anymore. Memories of childhood run free, those cool days when you were brave to wear a skirt and jelly shoes for the first time that year, you did not feel the cold because the sun shone bright. The grass was mucky but you didn't care, the approach of summer was akin to excitement of Christmas.
I no longer have a deck to decorate, or a garden to plant, but indoor flowers will do. I can play my cello by an open window, sitting on a real chair. I can smoke a joint and go for a pot-walk, taking in the cool sunshine. Shed the winter coat, shed a lifetime of old clothes, spring cleaning happens in our minds too. I may hang curtains simply to see them move in the breeze. I'll turn up the music on my stereo and I'll actually do my dishes.