I would give up all of my memories of trains
if one passed through the foothills as I watched. All to say, there is enough emptiness to be buried
wherever the weathervane stops.
There is enough emptiness to feel holy.
— Meghan Privitello, “Day 6,” Notes on the End of the World
I know it's always been like this. Spring in Utah is so fickle, and yet every social media post at this time of year is full of people cursing the weather. Snow?! Really?
'Twas always thus, and always thus will be.
(points if you know what movie that's from)
It feels like stop and go traffic. It feels like a sneeze that just won't come. It feels like unrequited love. I'm ready for the sun to freckle my face again, but I'm also feeling a little unprepared for whatever comes next. Because with spring, there's always some big change in my life. Last year it was graduation + marriage (within one week of each other--do not recommend). This year, well, I can't say exactly, but I just feel it.
If my morning coughs and itchy eyes are any indication of spring's slow pace, I think I'll enjoy it for now. Before the glass breaks.
bonus: a playlist for spring when it's being deliberate
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