Spring

Spring was never a time that I desperately craved unless it was winter. I don’t like the birds or the bees. I shouldn’t say I don’t like them; I understand they both benefit the ecosystem but I would prefer them no where near me. I don’t like sweating and being sticky from humidity. I am not a fan of April showers; however, I do love May flowers.

Spring and I have a weird relationship. I love the warmth and sun on my skin but I can only tolerate it for so long. After an eternal winter, I’m happy to see the sun come out of hiding. I now feel disappointment when it rains or gets below 70 degrees. I love seeing flowers and the honeysuckle begin to bloom.

Spring brings family down from far off lands to spend Easter with us. Spring was tiny little eggs hidden in plain sight at Easter-Egg hunts. Spring was church and summer dresses of whites, blues, pinks, and yellows. Spring was knowing that summer was so close that you could smell the grills and bonfires that decorated the neighborhoods.

I can almost feel the sun hitting my skin and making me so miserable from the heat that I have to jump in a pool full of strangers; although, I despise strangers around me while I’m in water.