I harbour in my heart this feeling, a yearning for spring. During the winter I have moments reminiscing about the day that it will become almost warm enough to go out into the garden. The down fill vest warming my body, my hands tingling from the dampness in the air that lingers even with the bright new spring sunshine. Scraping off the dead leaves that have camouflaged the dormant perennials, their winter jacket of protection, searching for green shoots, the signs of life.
Walking through parks, looking up at branches swelling with a promise of buds, the smell of fresh green in the air, renewal is immanent. Sunny spots sheltering tiny purple crocus, the white flash of snow drops signifying it truly has arrived. The joy of the scented aura that clings to you when you go back inside. Fresh new green.
There is a homesickness in my heart, it yearns for Spring, because it is where I truly belong.