Weird, I don't remember changing my alarm sound. Who did Apple send into the woods to harvest this incredibly realistic bird call for their latest update? Probably James Murphy, right? Maybe its not from the woods at all, maybe its a pigeon cooing on the streets of New York. Either way, what could've possibly possessed me to pick this?
Rolling over I realize that my alarm is not, in fact, going off and that the call must belong to a real bird. Through a sleep-crusted squint I read the date, March 20th.
"It's the first day of spring!" I remark, surprising myself and talking aloud to no one.
The only reason I know this is because I recently Googled it in the throes of a petty bar argument. Seeing as, A. I was right and B. It's a special day (of sorts) - I should celebrate, even in some small way. Or at least not languish in bed. In an decaffeinated haze I untangle myself from the sheets, get dressed and throw open the curtains.
Light floods in, the corners of my mouth rising to meet it in what can only be described as a goofy smile. I snatch up my bag and light jacket and head out.
It's as warm as it looked from inside, which seldom happens. Bouncing down the sidewalk my life starts to feel like a peppy montage. Nodding at strangers, smiling at babies in strollers. My subconscious compass points due coffee, as it's wont to do. Upon spotting my favorite shop from a block or so away, I realize it's become a veritable eye spy of characters. Do that many people even live in this city?!
Wiggling my way through a spandex-clad team of cyclists, dipping below a gesticulating professor mid-pontification, and sliding behind an off-topic study group - I find myself at the counter.
"Morning! What'd you like?"
I start to order my usual, then gleefully realize what I can now drink, what I've longed for all winter.
"Could I have an iced coffee to go?"
Mentally high-fiving myself hard enough for it to sting, I rejoice in this warm-weather ritual that's come back into my life. I collect my beverage at the other end of the bar, turn on my heel, and head out the door. There's only one clear path on a day like today. I've got to go to the park.
In the blink of a now-jittery eye, I arrive. Seemingly overnight the grass has become green again, at least what I can see of it. For the most part it's littered with blankets and dotted with tots at play. With a quick scan I locate a prime spot at the top of a hill. I weave my way to and fro slowly edging closer.
And there it is, just waiting for me, perfectly-sized, prime real estate. I plant my bag like a proverbial flag and survey the spring kingdom below. Sun touches all, save for nooks beneath trees. Sitting down I sip on my iced coffee and smile knowing that summer's ahead and snow's very much in our rear-view mirror.