early spring.

You’re headed home, and as you wait, hearing the sound of the rain shower the metal roof of the train station, you watch the cascading raindrops colliding on the windows. The train drops you off at your stop, leaving a short walk between you and comfort. On your walk, you see a puddle, a huge one. You’re an adult, yet still childish at heart. You jump into it, letting the water rise and splash you, like a rock on the ocean shore. It takes you a moment, but as the wind rises and blows through you, like paper, you continue your walk. As the rain picks up, becoming torrential, you let it hit you, as your hair becomes dew. As you walk into your house, you pick up the firewood you left on your porch the night before. You light a fire in your fireplace, and as the logs crackle, you can’t help but feel calm. You make yourself a mug of cocoa, and settle into your plush couch. As a record plays, time seems to pass in almost slow motion. The lulling comfort and weight of your blankets, combined with the fresh scent of crackling pine embers sends you dozing off.

the day has ended, but still the seasons go on.