T.O. sprunged before it springed

March 2nd, 2012.

Bare feet in ballet flats, people stop to listen to buskers.

Short skirts and nylons; hats that don’t cover ears.

Cyclists without gloves weave around convertibles filled with bald heads.

Plastic hockey nets and new tricycles on light gray driveways.

The spritely sound of the woman, whose voice announces the next streetcar stop, is gleeful rather than taunting.

People buy tulips and don’t get them wrapped.

The wind still chills and I still need my mitts after dark, but I am sensing the collective shedding of that symbolic extra layer we carry around in winter.

We are all breathing deeply.

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P.S. I apparently wrote about this last year, too… at the END of March.

Sprunged

Crocci (the plural of crocus, in my mind, and now yours) have popped up amidst the last of the grungy snow and the discarded candy wrappers on the tiny front lawns in my neighbourhood.

My commute home from work has turned into a dawdle, instead of the ferociously determined press against the harsh wind.

Dogs are no longer trotting, but galloping around the intensely muddy parks.

My aqua-marine Kicks are shockingly bright against the still salt-stained sidewalks and ”Let’s go for a walk” has replaced “Let’s go grab a pint.”

I’m already excited for it to be replaced by “Let’s go for a swim!”

 

Am I ever really in the current season?

 

 

bulbous

it’s bulb season.

This makes my body hurt, my nails dirty, my boots muddy

and my tummy get bigger, because I’m hungry ALL THE TIME.

 

nom nom nom.

eff you bulbs.  you are spectacular in the spring, but for now you are terrible.

730-830pm

This is my favourite time of the day at this time of year.

The sky is incredibly bright without actually being able to see the sun. 

I find that being outside during this time is the absolute best for reading. 

Reading outside with a pashmina scarf bundled inside my denim jacket certainly made me feel like spring was officially here.

cat power

has one of the most beautiful voices in the world.

so unbelievably suited to a one hour walk home by yourself in the crisp almost-spring.

would you let me walk down your street
naked if I want to  ??

stopped to smell ‘em

  I was walking home in the crisp early evening and stopped to smell these tiny little pink buds on a tree.  A girl was biking by and caught my indulgence and smiled at me. I realized how rarely I do actually stop to smell flowers.  I kept walking and realized that the reason I stopped in the first place was because they were so pretty, so I took some flower pictures on the rest of the way home.

The first two are in front of a restaraunt with the loveliest patio I’ve ever seen.

  

The next two were inside a fence, and I sure did have to hang myself over the fence, bum up in the air, to get these shots.

  

The last three were in the front lawn of a house that always has beautiful landscaping.  Right now they don’t have a lot of flowers, mostly greenery, but this lone daffodil certainly caught my eye.

 

disgusting puddle water = spring

literally! look:

my favourite part about taking these pictures was that my pants were super low, and people were staring at me/my crack, but i didn’t care, because this spring kind of called to me, and I had to get some shots.

i like these ones better: