My thoughts are jumbled this morning. I have felt very busy doing not much at all. May tends to be an emotional month. Allergies are in full force for Oliver, so throwing the windows open to enjoy the cool evenings isn't a possibility. Anniversaries and awareness days pop up on the calendar and with smiles, they certainly bring tears.
Spring has felt different ever since Waverly passed away. Rebirth and blossoms budding seem a slap in my face as I recoil from the joy of life awakening from winter slumber. Don't get me wrong, the colors are majestic. There is something beautiful about seeing flowers appear in gray places, like along the metro tracks on 66. The purple flowers (or weeds) are stunning. Autumn still feels like my season. I want to bundle up, turn away from bright lights to the fire's flicker. Spring is new, stripping away of the old. I want to cling to that which was.