The smell of an outdoor grill, rising temperatures, strawberries-it must be Spring! I think we’re all fairly sensitive to the first signs of Spring. If you’re anything like me, you stand watch over those last days of winter like a predator just waiting to pounce on the first green bud of life. I’m not totally put off by the chill of our coldest season, it’s only that by the time March arrives I’m so ready for some tank tops, flip-flops and daily trips to the gelateria up the street.
Spring is my favorite time of year and not only because it’s when my birthday falls *ahem*april13th*ahem* but because I enjoy seeing the world come to life again. Everything around you is at its most sweet, vivid, and stimulating. All of that natural energy around me invigorates me, as if I’m fresh and new myself. It’s a wonderful feeling and one only Spring can bring me. It’s a much-needed interlude between the black ice and condensed breath of Winter and the suffocating, oppressive heat of Italian Summers.
I do try to be cautious when declaring that Spring has, in fact, sprung. Too many times I’ve found a wild flower poking it’s reckless little self out of the earth, just to be taken out by some freak ice storm-Winter’s last word.
My one there’s-no-way-it’s-still-Winter sign is when I look out the window and the sky is perfect, the sun “shines like the top of the Chrysler building”, and across the way on the balcony of the building behind us sits the most tan, overweight, diva in all of Italy-sunning in her tiny bikini feeling, herself, very much like a Spring chicken. A giggle to myself and a sip of iced tea and I’m ready for Spring in all her glory.