This city is waking. The sun’s still out and the snow’s puddling into pools and I can feel the arrival of spring deep in my bones. This transition from grey to blue and green, to early nights to late mornings, always comes fast but it seems even more sudden this time around. Winter kills souls and leaves me out of it instead of in, but this winter was different from the rest.
This city was frozen to its core three years ago. It was submerged under snow the year following. And the city may have been beautiful and forever blue in my memories of it last year, but it was a city always anticipating and never actually delivering. This winter, the city was my one and only. It was not tied to the hope of anyone or anything. It was brighter than it’s ever been. And more beautiful, too. And it was more than enough to carry me through.