i think i'll go for a walk outside now
March 5, 2003 09:34 PM

You forget.

And then, one day, you step outside into warmth and sun and you know. February. Wait. March?

So this was the problem.

Half-memories of whimsical stops at the flower stand. Daffodils and mother's birthdays. Tossing on a peacoat over a white t-shirt or coatless, going out in the young-punk-mandated uniform: thermal tee (not the bright and colorful variety, the white ones garnered from thrift and army-navy shops), plaid skirt, artfully circle-cut tights.

The first time you roll windows down driving in cars, not to smoke with the heat cranked, just because you want the air in here and the air out there to match. That sensation of being air. You and air and that car over there, the muddy grass you'd lay in, bend and kiss if it weren't all about being home, now, wearing the dress you've waited a month to try on.

All molecules.

And the sounds - oh! Not an outdoor sort of girl, but -

You don't notice winter hitting the mute button until spring nudges the clicker and there it is again - a cliche of a song, but a welcome one. Crickets: "Daydream Believer" redux. Bird chirping muzak. Turned on. Everywhere.

You can dance to it.

The city wears earmuffs, sniffs and snuffles all winter. Sputters awake.

Time for a walk on the beach. On the sidewalk. In the woods.

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