The weather is unseasonably warm. Cherry trees and geraniums are blooming. People walk around without coats. It feels like next spring (strange, to remember backwards!).
Every spring, I experience a poignant stirring of my emotions that brings to mind all past springs, yet makes me dream of the future, and in the remembrance of the past I also remember my past dreams and find myself caught in a painful awareness of time and timelessness, of hope and disillusionment.
As I walked back from biology lab to my office building a few moments ago, I thought how strange it is that this false spring feels more like a real spring than I have experienced in many years. For once, I am looking more forward than back.
I always dreamed of touching the universe, of dogging an idea until I understood it, of finding words for my questions and pursuing the answers into every corner of life. I wanted to follow those elusive moments of beauty: the breath after a song ends, the final ripple on water. But in my fear of looking life in the face, I built a cage for myself--a place where no creature belongs.
This spring, I'll be flying free.