and this is the sun's birthday

It’s one of those days when you want to wear your sunglasses, even indoors, because it’s your way of supporting the cause of the sun, which seems to be doing so well. The sun was shining on Granville Street as I walked home from church this morning. I had just bought these gorgeous two-toned blue orchids for my roommate Bryanna (happy birthday!), when I heard someone singing. I thought it was a busker, so I crossed the street to see. It turns out it was an older gentleman who was walking down the street, singing in Italian at the top of his lungs. You could have heard him ten blocks away, head thrown back, hands in his pockets, the serious look on his face doing nothing to mask the sheer joy behind his voice. He was singing songs about love, I’m sure. Amore. I slowed my pace so I could walk beside him. I imagined that I was on a street somewhere in Italy, Venice perhaps, being serenaded. I imagined that he was much younger, that he was singing about the way the sun danced in my beautiful red hair. I started to feel as though the flowers in my arms were from my Italian lover.

Further along on my walk home, I was squinting because of the sun, and finally, the tune to that song that I’ve been trying to remember for weeks, Riley’s song “Sunray,” worked its way out of the recesses of my brain. The sun drew it out, I think. I started humming it to myself. What a great summery song. “Keep the day awake, I don’t want it to end…” The birds were singing in the cherry trees (as you can see, I can’t write a whole blog without mentioning birds!) I wanted to sing at the top of my lungs, like the Italian, but I think I have to grow up a bit more before I can be like him, willing to look like a fool for the sake of life and love. An unabashed fool for love. I’m not in love. But this afternoon, I really did feel like I was IN love. Just not with a guy. Certainly not with an Italian senior citizen. In love with a God who blesses me with sun that dances in my beautiful red hair, with cherry blossoms, with two-toned blue orchids, with Riley songs, and yes, with Italian senior citizens who remind me that “all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well”.

So it is apparent. Spring has sprung. The only regret I have is that it sprang without melting. There is no thaw here. There is nothing to melt. Melting is inseparable from spring in Saskatoon. (an aside - When you're away from where you grew up, you realize what is not universal, and therefore worth remembering and describing.) There’s the icicles dripping. The ice on the sidewalk with water underneath, so that when you step on it, it creaks and starts fissuring under your feet. There’s an aroma that goes along with it, I can’t quite explain. ee cummings says the air of spring smells of “never and forever”. The meltwater runs into the gutters, making miniature rivers, perfect for toothpick races. You kick blocks of ice down the street (these are the kind that hurt people when accidentally used in snowball fights, and end up getting snowball fights banned from recess). There’s a slushy sludge on the road, and everything is a bit muddy and dirty for a while, because so much gravel and sand has been spread on the roads through the winter to make things less icy. But nobody seems to mind. Everyone goes outside with T-shirts on, just because they can, even if it’s only a couple degrees above freezing. BBQ time.

Rachel reminded me today that I might not actually have to miss this, it may only be happening when I get home at the end of April. Yay! Two springs.

I have just eaten one of the most wonderful cheggels ever cooked (cheese + egg + bagel = cheggel), I am about to enjoy a piece of Bryanna’s peanut butter cheesecake, and tonight, I have just discovered, I’m going to an Arrogant Worms concert. Wow. I’m going to have to get out of this romantic mood into a sillier mood. But romantics are kind of silly anyway.

It seemed fitting to end with an ee cummings poem. He reminds me of the Italian. Unabashed. I found this one this morning. It is about love and seasons. Here also is a picture I'm really proud of, a picture I took of cherry blossoms in Jericho park by my house.

i love you much(most beautiful darling)

i love you much(most beautiful darling)

more than anyone on the earth and i
like you better than everything in the sky

-sunlight and singing welcome your coming

although winter may be everywhere
with such a silence and such a darkness
noone can quite begin to guess

(except my life)the true time of year-

and if what calls itself a world should have
the luck to hear such singing(or glimpse such
sunlight as will leap higher than high
through gayer than gayest someone's heart at your each

nearness)everyone certainly would(my
most beautiful darling)believe in nothing but love