it's 71 degrees outside. that means i'm wearing heels with no socks. and my feet are paying for it. days like today make me miss my civic and its sunroof. because, i always feel sort of trapped in a car without a glass top through which to gaze at the heavens. and even though it's warm today, a bit balmy, even, i miss wearing a scarf. there's just something about the pop of color it adds while giving my porcelain neck something to hide behind - keeping it safe from harsh temperatures and staggering windchills. warm weather means no layers. no fluffy vests. no super-cute volcom coats. nothing but fabric and skin. and freckles that multiply quickly - bringing a truth i have to come to terms with. i am meant for constellations of brown dots to cover my nose and my cheeks and the skin above my top lip. that's where they blur into one messy, muddy orangish brown blob that in pictures looks like some strange coffee moustach; becoming the only thing my eye can see when focusing on imperfections is easier than choosing to love my hairstyle or my slightly thick runner's calves, that i'm told aren't cankles, but make me wonder.
but warm weather means something else, too. it means spring. and budding leaves. and tulips and more daylight for things like running, breathing, walking and just being. it means hope and laughter and twirly skirts and flip-flops. it's painted toenails and feeling the breeze on skin that's been cloaked in denim for too long.
so boldly i go - freckles and all. into spring. into the promise of newness and life and rebirth.
oh, i know winter will come again. but maybe, just maybe, next winter won't seem so harsh.