spring

The windows have been thrown open and the lovely hint of spring permeates the air as it wafts past my desk. There are birds twittering behind me, singing their praises, calling out to the sun, tempting him to stay a while longer and play. My concentration is broken; words that were once at the tips of my fingers are now forgotten. I want to sneak outside and walk, breathing in the lightly warmed air and feel the sun on my cheeks. I want to read a book in an open aired terrace, sipping coffee from a tall transparent mug and watch the scenery as people walk by. I want to sing and skip and shout, yelling atop of my lungs that spring is finally here. But I dare not, just in case the winter gods hear my gleeful cry and once again thwart us with snow.