Your playlists gets a little lighter, a little more nostalgic. The flowers are blooming (like the pretty purple buds that put up a good fight on your desk-RIP).
Rain trickles from clouds so fluffy you swear they were mashed potatoes in another life. The family of quail that lives in your neighborhood scurries by, little top-feathers bobbing as they shepherd the babies across the street. “Quick now, dear, we’re flightless, you know.”
And summer, the promise of evenings heavy with fresh cut grass and fireflies, of afternoons spent lazing in a haze of lemonade and chlorine, is just around the bend.
My goal then, is not to forget the outside world in my cubicle, but to be glad for it, to peer out of my window in wonder, to step outside the office and search for the tiny hummingbird that flits about in the courtyard.
(With new beginnings come new promises to post regularly. Shall we start with once a week and work our way up?)
Love and theatre,