it is 13 degrees. i am wearing more clothes than any southerner should ever have to wear and trudging through snow down lincoln to meet the writers in the naked lady bar.
i walked this same path one afternoon in may. the first truly warm day of last spring. i was on my way to meet k.clen for a pinic in the park, wearing a sundress and a bonnet- about which i entertained many doubts.
in the park, we sat on a blanket eating sandwiches amongst a group of school children at play.
we are 76 degrees and seven months removed from that day. i am wearing ten additional items of clothing, walking through the dark to meet entirely different people and yet in this moment, as i lift the feet i can barely feel to punch one step forward at a time through the snow, that day feels somehow very near.
the warmth of the sun. the grass tickling bare feet. the sensation that summer is coming. the possibility that anything can happen.