I miss the spring of my childhood. When you woke up one morning and you knew that the air changed. That it was going to be warm and sunny and colorful. That days would be filled with running along dusty city streets in brand new sandals until they wore out, eating loads of ice cream and literally bursting from energy and happiness. Days were long and fulfilled...pockets were full of petals and pebbles and gum wrappers...sleep was truly restful...
The world was never so big as it was then. It was never so full of promise. It was mine to discover.
The brand new oaks that endured the winter and burst through cement to proudly show off their vibrant foliage for all to admire.
The flowers that managed to persevere through a city winter and now bloom with such vigor it's almost gauche.
The sunlight that fills everything with golden light and illuminates every corner with new energy.
You can see in the way these girls dress that they feel spring. They are hopeful with the possibility of discovery...of hurried anticipation of this season...a season that could bring a new love, a new adventure to a foreign land...a new direction to their life.
When you live in a place that snows for 9 months and sneezes spring in one day before giving you two hot months of summer or a town where the seasons are basically a slight differential on the humidity scale you miss out on that change...that moment when seasons TURN. When, although you definitely know better, you want to run out into the street and run as fast as you can, breathing in the world around you...reveling in the fact that you are young and still believe the world to be a good place.
That is what I miss.
I also miss wearing actual clothes instead of the same drab uniform every single day.
I wish I had time to play with fashion like I used to...I wish I had more places to go where I was allowed to play with fashion. Someday I guess.
I mustn't complain. This is only temporary and New York is only two weeks away. I'll get My Spring then...
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