Springtime

The temperature has been getting incrementally warmer as the cloudless days of carême are slowly swept away by the rain storms and heat of hivernage. For some reason though, I was wrapped in a feeling of spring-time today. Perhaps it was the color of daylight; white clouds spread thinly across the sky have been passing over Guadeloupe the entire weekend, softening the usually stark light of a Caribbean sun. It might be an internally-timed recognition of the coming of spring. Though, it was probably sparked by reading a description of the first game day at the new Yankees stadium - a beautiful April day with temperatures nearing 60°F. I was surprised that it was so warm already. I had forgotten it could be warm elsewhere also.

Lolling about on a lazy Sunday morning, the open windows framed a blue sky. I couldn't see the ocean, the palm trees. Just a bit of green from the large breadfruit tree and a blue sky. Funny how a blue sky can resemble another. I was overcome with memories of spring in New York. After so many months of dreary gray cold, the exhilaration of feeling the first breath of warmth, or the unchanging joy of tiny buds of green suddenly unfurling into leaves and flowers.

I miss the seasons; the renewal, the movement, the change. There is no more efficient reminder of death, but no greater reminder of life. Of course, there are seasons here, too. Two as opposed to four. I wonder how many carêmes and hivernages will pass before I learn to love these seasons.