The Windows Have Been Closed Since November

April 6th. 4-something in the afternoon. I opened my bedroom window this morning mostly on instinct, the kind of thing you do before you're fully awake, and then I walked back over to it two hours later and just stood there. It was actually warm. Not "well, it's technically above forty" warm. Warm warm. The curtain was moving. There was actual birdsong happening. I stood there for probably a full minute before I even processed what was going on.

I've been in a low-grade winter fog since January. Not sad, exactly, just that flat, muted feeling that sets in when you've gone too long without real sunlight and every day looks the same color as a parking garage. Today broke that. I put on a playlist, made myself a cup of tea, sat down on the floor by the window, and did absolutely nothing productive for about forty-five minutes. It was perfect. I feel like I should feel guilty about that and I genuinely don't.

looking out at nothing. looking out at everything.

There's something about the first real spring day that makes everything feel slightly more possible. Like yeah, okay. Things can still be good. I know that sounds dramatic for a weather observation, but I think you know what I mean. It was 68 degrees and the windows were open and I had nowhere I had to be right that second, and that was enough. Easter weekend is coming up and I'm hoping the weather holds. For now though, today was exactly what it needed to be.