When I moved to North Carolina I was SO excited about seasons. SO excited. I cannot even describe to you the itchy feeling I would get (still get) in my belly and nose when I thought about the leaves turning brown and red and pink or the SNOW. OMG the snow.
In fall I was amazed. Everywhere I turned there were new colors and bare trees and things happened really quickly. In winter I was in awe. The sound of snow crunching under my boots might just be my favorite sound ever and standing on my 7+ acres watching snow fall all around me, with ice covering the pond was… calming. How is snow so light and so heavy at the same time? How does it make the world quieter? I don’t understand snow yet, but I know I love it.
And now it’s spring. My first real, North Carolina spring. Everyone tells you about how amazing fall is and everyone warns you about winter, but no one tells you about spring. Spring is hope and love and a sense of urgency. Spring is trees turning colors that trees have never turned. Spring is big fat bumblebees and dainty perfect daffodils and whole bushes that are the most perfect mustard yellow color. Spring is a shock to the senses. In spring I am in love.