The weather is unseasonably warm here in the East Village. It's tricking me into feeling hopeful.
It's March weather.
...the time of year for every trip I ever took to London or Paris
...the beginning of lacrosse practice when I was a teenager
...the month my son was born
...watching and (better yet) marching in the crazy NYC St. Patrick's Day Parade
...the smell of soggy earth, windy days and intermittent sunshine
...a time of possibilities and start overs and the official dawning of SPRING FEVER when I fall in love with everything and everyone
I'm sure the artic winds are just around the corner waiting to slap some sense into me.