For the first time in my life, I feel as though I have noticed the seasons changed around me. Not in the casual or superficial sort of way like, like I’m wearing less layers in the day and the mangoes that you would need to mortgage your house to buy are back in grocers, it's more intimate than that, more romanticized?
From the mundane familiar walk I take each day, thanks to lockdown, has come an acute awareness of the things that change on it; the sudden blooming of rhododendrons and azaleas (as much as I would love to claim that I know the names of these flowers like a heroin in a Jane Austen novel, I can’t, and must thank the Picture This app), a mother duck and her ducklings pepper the parks nearby, and butterflies dance around me. I always think to myself in these moments that I must remember how beautiful these small pictures are, and the immediate elated mood that follows, for those days when lockdown gets to me and going outside seems too big of a task. I force myself on these walks to be truly present, take in the sounds, the smells, and sights of spring. I don’t quite know what it is exactly, but seeing all these people, your neighbours, all embrace the small luxury of sitting in a park with a book as the days get warmer - there is something very unifying in that.
I think it’s the sheer joy of observing the rolling succession of life: as each day goes by, something new will happen on my walk, and I encourage you to do the same . Choose your route, pick your spot. Take notes. In this unsure time, there is something comforting about passing the older gentleman who lives down my street sitting by his front door with his golden retriever, seeing a once pregnant woman now pushing her stroller. There is a pool of humanity bubbling away right at our doorsteps.