The weekender: Spring done sprung

It's true, it did.

As you are aware, I have been valiantly and diligently working on this spring transition business. Really trying. A weekend of nice weather kinda helps, I will say. Was supposed to be 40s, but I hear high 50s were hit, and it sure felt like it. So, there were things like

• sun (true, not my favorite, but nice as a novelty item)
• going outside without a jacket. ! without a jacket! nor gloves. no gloves! ditto on hat. hat!
• flesh -- flesh blooming like giant versions of those petals we'll be seeing soon (a pretty cool part of spring, I freely admit) -- legs, bare legs, bare torsos -- things not seen in, well, a New England winter. relatedly spotted: sandals. an adorable white-polka-dotted (polka dots!) green skirt, that later proved to be a cute sundress, that soon had a black jacket back covering up its owner's presumably chilly torso
  

[Side note: the blanket thrown over the back of the couch has become a moving monster with undulating surface, the witchcraft betrayed only by the black tail sticking out the blanket's end.]

• kissing couples. awwwwwww.
• people! people everywhere, outdoors, moving. people emerging!
• the strange sensation of being out of doors and ... the air, it's different ... it's ... not frigid (I'm glacially ignoring here the lack of frigidity in our air as of late. listen to this: the paper today said we got 35.5 inches of snow this winter, 60 the winter before. we were robbed nearly half our snow! snow robbed!
• I'm not gonna go psychological deep diving here, but a certain lightness of spirit detected within as I was cruising around town today. a certain ease. a certain ... springiness. I might have giggled for unclear reasons a few times (even tho it's true I am highly amusing). yes, I might've. and, and, because there's nothing like little rituals to bring you into a thing that may not be easy to be brought into, for whatever reason, I spring-ritualed with Berryline frozen yogurt, eaten plunked down with The Stand on sunny steps along Mass Ave, between Harvard and Porter Squares (of course real New Englanders have been downing ice cream all winter, but whatever)
  
• and, to build warm-weather anticipation, a pact with a friend for a multi-hour city ramble on the first warm evening (I may be resisting spring but I loooovvvvvvve Boston's warm summer evenings, they're lovely). I'll wear flipflops. yay, flipflops!
• oh, and this: spring evenings. nowhere near summer evenings, but still lovely in their own fragile way. the light is different. the still leafless branches against the sky look a little ... lighter. they've got some expectation to them. driving over the Mass Ave bridge (the bridge that always fills me with a glee that I. live. in. Boston.), the river's ice-free wide open, there are sailboats in the basin (brrrr, but that's another matter), flocks of people walking, riding, running across the bridge. then, later, the sky's pinkening sunset sky reflecting against Boston's skyline. pretty cool.
  

So, OK. Spring, not all bad. Not really so bad at all, just wasn't done with the winter. But, apparently, I'm getting a few life lessons on things going away before I'm done with them. grrrrr. Life lessons.