my hands are cold but not for long
spring is here. we made it.
i made my mum a card for mother’s day and it won’t arrive on time because i can never seem to get my timing right. when i remember i need to do something it’s much too early, freakishly early. when i remembered it was mother’s day last month, it would have been strange to start making the card then. i do this for birthdays and christmas too. i want to be organised and buy gifts early, but it’s so early i’ll probably end up forgetting where i put the gifts. so i wait a few weeks and suddenly it’s christmas in a week and no one has any presents under the tree.
anyway, here i am, the day before mother’s day, trimming pieces of paper and glueing them together and wondering what to write in this card that doesn’t sound too repetitive and quietly hating myself for being so last minute, again. i finish up the card, slip it into the envelope and leave my house to begin walking, or fighting, my way through a crisp spring morning breeze that is so crisp you might even call it sharp. i am wearing a jumper and the t-shirt i slept in underneath and this five degree wind is taking no prisoners. i saw the sun shining and a blue sky and forgot it was still early march, not the middle of june. the postbox is only two streets away but this walk feels like a pilgrimage.
while i walk, i glance down at the envelope in my icy grip and notice that you can easily work out some shaky cursive that says happy mother’s day underneath. the envelope has a 2nd class stamp on it, meaning it will take two to three working days to arrive, a stamp i had leftover from eagerly buying too many when i was shipping out my winter zines. thank god for that optimism, otherwise i would have been subjected to spending an ungodly amount on one of those cards you make online and get a company to ship it out for you without ever holding it in your hands first.
i’m hoping the postman who comes to collect this or the person at the sorting office catches a glance of my quaint handwriting and “accidentally” drops it in the 1st class bag. it wouldn’t be the first time a 2nd class stamp arrived somewhere much too early. it’s the main reason i never send things 1st class anymore.
i hear a woodpecker in the distance. the wind is whipping past my face, a sound i will soon be engineering myself with an old letter that’s been lying around the house or a coveted piece of cardboard my partner and i will fight over come the inevitable heatwaves in the summer, but i could still hear its unmistakable mini drumrolls. i don’t remember the first time i heard a woodpecker, but i do remember the first time my partner told me it was so. now i always think of him when i hear one. i think of him every time i see a bird really, (he’s a big bird guy) more so pheasants or birds of prey, not so much pigeons.
but when i look up at a particular tree, and something small and green catches my eye, the woodpecker and all other sounds cease to exist. here it is, once again, my favourite view in the world. baby leaves. new life is happening once again all around us. i’ve been squinting my eyes at the trees across the street from my window in the hopes of seeing tiny speckles of growth to no avail, but on this brisk walk to the postbox ,where all i’m thinking about is hoping this stamp will morph into a first class stamp when i put it through the magical red portal, i am treated unexpectedly.
they’re small and curved and the freshest shade of green you’ve ever seen. they’re almost transparent. the early morning sun passes straight through them and i’m sure if i went a little closer, i might be able to see their tiny veins and darker spots of green versus lighter ones, the same way i attempt to blend my new alcohol markers to achieve the same look.
it amazes me every year. i never, and will never, get tired of this sight, and i think that’s one of the wonderful things about being human and being alive. i love that my eyes are able to see this, up close, the colour, the texture, the size, the detail. i love that i am able to comprehend what i’m looking at, new growth, new life, a spectacle, something i barely understand yet can still appreciate. i love that this happens every year but i am still filled with awe every year. that i am capable of appreciating the sun rise and set every single day and never get bored. i love that nature is always changing yet it is always the same but it will never disappoint me, it will never bore me. how wonderful it is to be alive and witness other things come to life.
i slip my envelope into the postbox and on my way back home, a cherry blossom petal brushes my cheek, i look out for more baby leaves, i don’t hear the woodpecker again. my hands are cold, but not for long. spring is here.
hello quiet readers, i hope you enjoyed this week’s post! i had a good time writing this one. who knew so much could happen on a three-minute walk to a postbox :’) daylight savings is just around the corner and i cannot wait, it's like a second christmas honestly. it never fails to excite me every year and i love it.
i hope you have a calming sunday ahead. if you’d like to hang out in the sun room a little longer, here is my last post on how i keep to a daily journaling routine and here is my latest youtube video where i explore a new hobby, colouring!
thank you for being here. i’ll see you next sunday, in the sun room <3
i loved reading this. i’m surprised you have cherry blossoms already! it’s still bare trees for us across the pond
I loved every bit of it💗