Waving Day

Just recently in Dillon we enjoyed a day I call Waving Day.

Everywhere I went on foot or in my car, people waved at me, and I waved back. At first, I thought that maybe I was looking particularly fetching (though a quick glance in the mirror revealing a bird’s nest where my hair should be cured me of that notion).

I realized that everyone was waving because it was the first day that the temperature was over 50 degrees since November. We were all outside, enjoying the sun and blue sky. No longer did we need to bind our arms tightly to our sides to conserve warmth and energy. We could safely fling our arms wide and wave.

With this seemingly small gesture, my attitude changed that day. I un-creased my brow and practiced smiling. 

I threw open my windows and re-hung my wind chimes. I painted my toe nails in anticipation of sandal-wearing season.

I love spring almost as much as I love autumn. While autumn’s deep reds and oranges sooth and comfort me, spring trees with their unfurling tender, baby leaves, make me giddy and excited.

In spring the world becomes new again, and we get another chance to make things right. We shed the chronic bad mood caused by frigid winter temperatures and don a warm disposition that welcomes new ideas and delights in light-hearted fun.

With this excitement, I leafed through mail-order catalogs for new patio furniture suitable for long afternoons of summer lounging. I conducted research on how to germinate the sunflower seeds I know will flourish outside the west-facing wall of my apartment.

I washed the bedroom window sheers which gave the sheets on my bed the fresh smell that only happens when the windows are open and a light breeze tickles the bed in just the right way.

Even Gracie, my bird, began to molt her downy coat in anticipation of spring’s eminent arrival.

It snowed two days later.

And even though my feet are encased in boots once again, my pink toe nails still wriggle in anticipation for the spring that will set them free.