february fifth

Sunshine on my skin like I haven't felt it in months 

I step outside my apartment 

The scent of winter leaving bombards my senses 

Reminding me again what newness feels like 

Newness

Newness

Because the sun 

Newness because that's what shows up in the spring 

After weeks of rain

The little yellow flowers peek their heads up from the ground 

I remember 

I remember what sun soaked California sounds like, smells like, looks like. 

It sounds like Nickel Creek 

And ice cubes cracking in coffee

And rolling my windows down. 

It smells like salt & sweat & tears of joy

And beer & strawberries. 

It looks like coming out of a cave 

And bared shoulders 

And time well spent 

And time well wasted.

The light is persistent 

And its comforting presence reminds me of this same newness