Vampire Vocab

I look out my window, and pull it open. Hear the squeal as it slides along its track. It doesn’t matter. Because finally, finally, there is a smell in the air. And it’s warm. People equate spring with flowers, but the smell is nothing so heinously stereotyped. The smell of spring is the smell of sun-warmed young grass, and the cool water spraying from the neighbors sprinkler. Of golden sunshine which streams through a window too long shut. And of rainclouds collaborating on the horizon, whispering and wondering about whether they could blandish one more flower from my yard. Springtime warmth isn’t like winter warmth. Winter warmth comes from a space heater, and it’s empty. It’s better than being cold, but it doesn’t carry the right smell or feel.

The sounds of spring our different, too. In winter, the wind howls and yowls, screaming it’s anger through the naked trees, begging for an audience to punish for the cold. But everyone hides, for good reason. Now, it whispers “It’s springtime!”, like it’s the most lovely secret in the world, like every daffodil that smiles at the sun is a long-lost friend. In winter the streets are silent, save for cars delicately picking along them, wary of the ice. Now, I go outside and I hear screams of childish laughter, and the hush sound of bicycle tires dancing down the street. Springtime makes me want to sing. Which is why Liz doesn’t like it as much as I do.

Anyway, the message is kind of obvious. For those who DON’T get it, however, here it is: Thank goodness its spring! (And Friday!)

This entry was posted on Friday, April 16th, 2010 at 7:30 pm and is filed under Life, Ramblings.
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