As I write this, the golden afternoon light is streaming through the open window over my shoulder. It picks out every speck of dust on my laptop screen (I should really clean it) and the tap tapping of my typing is punctuated by birdsong. It’s Monday and I’m sitting in a warm glow. Not only from the sun. I’m basking in the loveliness of the weekend just gone.
The easing of restrictions has been so gradual that it’s taken a while for things to feel more “normal” again. Although for me, last week was a turning point. Saturday especially. Sipping on prosecco, I soaked up the spring rays in my sister’s garden. Happy chatter floated over the fence from the local pub and mingled with smoky wafts escaping from the BBQ.
For some reason or another, I felt quite emotional, and I don’t think it can completely be put down to the prosecco. Perhaps it was because I haven’t ventured outside the South West in so long. Or it was seeing my sister and brother-in-law happy and settled in their new home. Maybe it’s because they’ve moved to an area that holds a lot of memories for my parents. It wasn’t just personal though. It was knowing that so many people were being reunited with loved ones that day. Even walking past families and friends having picnics on the nearby green made my eyes glisten behind my sunglasses.
Spring is a season of new beginnings. It’s a time when everything is on the brink of bursting into life; eggs wait to hatch, bleary-eyed animals come out of hibernation and buds appear from nowhere, impatient to bloom. In April, the blossom-scented air is filled with potential, and this year feels especially promising. Let’s hope it stays true to its word.