a spring evening fade

it’s the time the summer breathes out onto spring, warm tendrils fingering their way into your hair, wrapping tentatively, shyly around your cool, bare arms. in this moment the summer is still guarded, unsure of her place and unwilling to declare herself firmly. and in these night skies i see the gradient blue with tacit, dark clouds, sinking themselves toward twilight in the most achingly effortless way. pale pink buds blaze against dusky light blue patches, dancing gingerly in the air of evening shade, laughing sweet. these are the moments i throw open the windows, home lights barely twinkling around me, breathing in the change of air: the smell of soil, and drying rain, and growing things poking baby faces out of dirt, just mingling under my nose like mealtime fragrance through the dusty screen. this is the time that brings awe. and forgiveness. and hope for what is possible. and the feeling that on the break of warmer air, we – walking headstrong into bright, warming night – well, we can do anything.