Spring in my shoes

Apart from being fooled on April 1st, there is so much else to write home about. Google did a fantastic job with the Gmail Motion Beta. Moi became the butt of my own joke! For those of you who didn’t read the post— I deleted it. I have to save face while I can :-).

The first of April was in itself a day of magical transformations. It was precisely on that day that the drab wintry, depressing world turned itself around to a sprightly, delicious green. It seemed like someone simply flipped the surface over. Sitting on a hardwood bench in my English literature classes in Bangalore never gave me the opportunity to truly understand what it meant to spring forth from dreary, depressing wintry weather into sprightly spring. I can finally understand why weather plays such an important role in much of literature.

Tiny blades of green grass push themselves out forcefully from under the dead, dry earth. A white canopy of white, fresh Star Magnolia’s burst out together on the streets lined with them. The sky has finally lifted off the deathly, pale, gray veiled clouds to let the glory of the magnificent sun shine through. I gaze at the morning sky everyday and rejoice in those fluffy, lamb-like clouds floating lightly in the azure sky. As I go on my walks, my feet crunch the dead leaves and fallen berries. I pick a few in my hands and watch the veins on the leaves stretch themselves thin to a point where they begin to resemble the dusty cobwebs on forgotten winter walls. The berries crumble as I pinch them between my fingers and fall like dust to the ground. But with each step I take, I am also reminded of the power of life and re-birth. Baby buds, hatchlings, bluebonnets, the smell of spring, children playing are all around me. Neil and I get out and play in the little yard in front and revel in the abundant sunlight. We make bubble water, blow bubbles and watch them float away into the spring morning. We watch after them for as long as they fly and then we make some more. I would like to think of them as little prayers that go up and for every prayer that is answered, a bubble pops. If wishes were bubbles…

Neil always asks me where the bubbles travel and why they pop. A scientific explanation will only have us going around in circles. For now, this will be my explanation.

4 thoughts on “Spring in my shoes

  1. My God Sharoon.. what a beautiful description of the arrival of spring.. I truly admire you for thinking deep in trivial things of life and passing on your experience to us.. every sentence and every word is so refreshing.. would love to see a book coming out of your thoughts.. My reading is confirmed 🙂

  2. that is so funny! i saw that post, but i thought you were joking. this is a LOVELY post, though! do the apartment people mind neil’s bubbles, too?! might as well hang a “no childhood fun allowed” sign up!

    *licks stamp & taps knee*

  3. Lovely post with some beautiful images, Sharoon!

    I have always loved books with lots of imagery in them. For me, that is the only way to visit places (historic or otherwise) that you may not get a chance to otherwise. When I first moved to America, I couldn’t understand why everybody would say, “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” whenever the sun was out shining. Having come from a tropical nation, I didn’t yet fully understand the role sunshine plays in keeping our spirits up. After having lived here for close to two decades, I now revel in sunny days and pine for the same during wintry or overcast days.

    Love your explanation of where bubbles go when they pop!

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