Spring.

Last week we got snow. Today we have got 16 degrees Celsius. Each day starts with mild sun rays breaking into the bedroom through the gaps in the blinds. Those gaps are fairy-like little light spectacle dancing on the ceiling surface. When I pull the blind up the show stops, turning into a new wave of light - bright sunny pure yellowness. And it's just 6 am. That means one thing: the spring has come.
 
I find it relieving when I can take my winter coat off - the sleeping bag-like chrysalis is not so hermetic anymore, I can leave my buttons unfastened and let the shawl fringes whirl around in the wind. The rain is purifying and warm, the sky is serene in its cloudiness, the air is humid and fragrant. Now the colors. They flourish around as the feet touch the ground - just like this play for art-inclined toddlers, when you spill all kinds of dies on a piece of paper and then tilt it so that the colors spread down the white surface. I see green all around. In the moss, early leaves, grass and minuscule buds. At this time of early spring the green is more timid and withdrawn than this May-exploding green, it's hard to say which one I like better. It's everywhere now. But only if you look down. Try to look up. In the mornings through the noon you'll see the perfectly blue dome with some whipped cream floating in the air. At the dusk there is pink interspersed with violet and yellow. But when the night falls, the sky resembles a big metropolitan city, lights strewn all over the navy, blinking in the distance. 
Sometimes purple clouds flash across the sky and dim the starry lights. Then the moon rolls over above.
 
I feel the spring with all my senses - its scent and its sound overwhelm all my body on my way back home. The sounds of the city are enhanced - the rustling of leaves, the cars... Now, after three months of lethargic existence indoors I feel alive again!