and it's
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
—E. E. Cummings
This is my first spring in five years. Puerto Rico has its own seasons but spring isn’t one of them, at least not the spring I know.
I forgot about spring but it’s here now in all its puddle-wonderfulness.
Spring is the color yellow and neon shades of green.
Daffodils.
Forsythias.
New grass, new leaves, new buds. Very chartreuse.
Wet and gray and raw one day. Soft and sunny and mild the next day.
Chilly coffee mornings. Warm shirt-sleeve afternoons. Cool firepit-and-wine evenings.
Sometimes a single spring day is a mini-tour of all four seasons. Light sweater. No, jacket. Umbrella. No, light sweater and a jacket. No, t-shirt and sunscreen.
Squishy mud. Dead winter grasses leaning in the wind. Pines stretching into soft blues and gray-streaked clouds.
Everything opening up.