(no subject)

The air was crisp outside when I walked to the store. It tasted like snow in my mouth, cold and clean and tingly. After so much time indoors, it was very refreshing. On the way back from the store, the rain had started pouring down. People ran to and fro, papers thrown over their heads. I walked slowly through the rain, enjoying every drop that fell on my face. Walking in the rain is wonderful, especially when there are warm towels and fresh clothes nearby. There is warmth in that house, but also stale house air, dust and the smell of a house that has been sealed against the winter. It won't be long until the days will grow warmer, and we will peel the plastic from the windows and throw them open. The air will rush against us shockingly cold at first, but bringing with it the smell of spring.

Last summer, I didn't spend nearly enough time on my porch. But that will change this year. I will relax on my porch, a book in my hand and a drink on the ledge. There will be relaxation and warm summer breezes, and if I am lucky a thunderstorm will crash and roll over head. I will watch it from inside, until my impatience over comes me and I run into the streets, into the storm.