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The smell of fresh spring mornings brings me back to my hometown. Early in the morning, I would trudge down the street to the bus stop, and stand and wait for what felt like hours, swatting mosquitos and wishing I were still in bed.

The smell of fresh spring mornings brings me back to a youth group retreat at a lake. I woke very early, and took my notebook down to the beach. The sun glinting off the water inspired me, as should happen on retreat. Later in the day, Melissa and I took a paddleboat out on the lake.

The smell of fresh spring mornings brings me back to all the little memories of college. On mornings like today, [livejournal.com profile] turtle_morn and I would walk to class together through the endless sea of blooming daffodils. In the afternoons, we would take our blankets and our homework to sunny patches of ground, enjoying the outdoors and our freedom. Meanwhile, I would be playing voicemail tag with [livejournal.com profile] crifmer all day long, singing increasingly ridiculous verses about the tiny little daffodils. In the evening, we would all be at chessboard practice, wondering how we would ever be ready by the festival.

The smell of fresh spring mornings wakes me up and makes me look at the beauty of the world around me. The tulips and the daffodils, the flowering trees, even the chickens in the driveway and the parrot across the street, all remind me of my future as much as my past.

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collacentaur

May 2011

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