It’s only the first of March, an arbitrary name and date in the calendar, but somehow, waking up to it makes me hopeful. No more half melted dark brownish snow, more sunlight, more desire to walk outside, run, smile.
Winter, towards its very last breaths, looked like a soggy, wrinkled old lady, with crows dancing on its melting layer of skin. And now comes the messy birth of spring, with floods, mud, smell of rain and wet cement. But I am up for it, with my wellies.
springtime in Bucharest. Chalk invades the sidewalks!
München, in May, 2010.
Springtime in Wannsee, close to Berlin. (2010)
Flowers in München, 2010
And more to come. I’ll call this my spring journal.