I remember Spring. The lilacs and the stars. The rose and the dew. You and the night. I remember. I remember holding hands beneath the moon which was suspended like a silver locket upon a chain of stars from the neckline of a cloud. I remember the leaves whispering the lacy gossips in the trees. I remember the lake lapping. I remember how sharp like a thorn was love. Why do I not remember your Name?
-Up the Down Staircase
I have always had a strange relationship with spring. After all my complaining about the cold weather you'd think I would adore it! But I am never quite sure what to do with it. I am often riddled with anxiety about summer, as it looms just around the corner and will linger on much longer than I would prefer. When I was younger I remember only being able to express my distaste for spring in that it was "too pastel". I hated Forsythia; I thought it was loud and obnoxious. Tulips asked for far too much attention, the demanding things. I hated what show-offs they seemed to be. Something about spring always felt wrong. The early, mild days of summer before it got too humid were nice enough, or cool summer nights are poetic and desirable, but spring mornings make me uneasy still.
I have been having a hard time dressing for it. Stricken with some brand of virus I spent most of this past week lurking around the house trying to avoid light. I was concerned I would miss out on the nicest days of the year and would not be able to wear various outfits in the coming weeks. Which is partly true, but I'm finding this to be very tricky. Striking the balance between post-winter excitement and still dressing correctly is a difficulty always chronicled by fashion magazines and the like, just as I always bust out the winter coat far too early and get sick of it much too soon.
Everyone on campus has broken out the flip-flops and frayed shorts, but I can't just bring myself to go there yet. I will wear tights until it's 80 degrees, and don the light jackets!
(Also, apologies, I am not certain where many of these images are from, they're simply picked out of the mountains of random pictures I've saved!)