An accordant blend of pastels and florals overtake my thoughts until all I can see is a picturesque blue sky, so vivid that it escapes my mind and spills into my life.

I find the cloudless clear sky in my surroundings. In my pink hydro flask, in my flower-shaped hoop earrings, in smiley faces drawn on rubrics, in my pastel pink converse, and in daisy stickers on Evelyn’s laptop. Happy little symbolic objects, turning my life into a Pinterest board. March has begun, and winter is gradually being left behind for spring.

Spring is pure bliss: a field of flowers with not a single anxiety weighing me down. Restlessness transforms into frolicking, snow is traded for sunshine, and despair turns into hope. Hope shines with the rays of the sun, casting its golden luminescence onto doubts about making it through the drought. 

Spring is hearing the birds chirping for the first time in months, and suddenly realizing how much you’ve missed their voices. You don’t miss the auxiliary noise accompanying your alarm in the morning until it’s gone. It’s such a frivolous thing, but you suddenly realize you made it through. You find reassurance in their songs, and you feel like you might be okay.

Spring is looking out the window in the middle of a dreadful day and catching a glimpse of the grass for the first time in an eternity.

Spring isn’t just the light at the end of the tunnel, it’s the light shining through stained glass that makes you ponder how you never noticed that light could look so beautiful.

Spring is when the weather is just right. The frigid cold is departing, but the sweltering heat hasn’t arrived yet either. Instead, a subtle warmth fills the air that’s interrupted only by a light breeze.

Spring is the sound of “invisible string” by Taylor Swift. The simplicity of the lyrics combined with the beautiful sincerity of the metaphor emanates spring. Spring is, “Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven.”

March occurs between seasons. Winter is like an opaque curtain, however. There are little holes in it, and spring is the light peeking through the openings.

Spring looks like afternoons in the park; like dew-covered grass and fragile laughter filling the air. It’s a preview of summer days spent under the sun. The long-awaited season of intentional indolence is on its way, and spring provides a glimpse into the unrestrained joy that summer entails.

Spring is an infinite meadow that’s vacancy is only disrupted by a girl in a frilly dress, who’s allured by the graceful delicacy of each blooming bud. At that moment, her own world is blooming; she realizes hiding inside the petals of her mind has given her a false sense of serenity. For her, true tranquility isn’t in solitude, and each day is her opportunity to embrace the serendipity that is life.

Spring is the small moments that get you through the day. A compliment on your outfit. A sincere conversation with a friend. Your favorite song sounding a little bit better than it usually does. Spring is just a season, but it means more than that if you let it. 

Most embrace spring as the embodiment of change and new beginnings, but to me, spring is hope.