Seasons in Transition

 When I came here everything seemed so cold and dreary. The trees were barren and looked like grieving old people with gnarled fingers pointing to the sky, which in turn looked at them with steely indifference. There were hardly any flowers seen. And people walked fast, their faces down afraid of the chilly wind. They walked, huddled,shrinking inside their coats and squeezing out the last bit of warmth from it. The world seemed to consist of just black, brown and grey. Then it snowed and for sometime everything was covered in white. And it looked pure and pristine. Then it turned to slush and gave me nightmares.


But now Winter is almost out of Nottingham and Spring is already making it's way in. I can feel the joy in the air, in people's smiles, in blooming cherry blossoms and the sunny daffodils. I can see the colours painting themselves across the lawn, the gardens and the rest of the city. Those gnarled fingers are sprouting tiny green leaves,the tomato bush outside my hall is flowering. People are out in bright skirts and shorts and tops. A 10 minute walk to the uni makes me so happy that I feel like walking back just to experience the sights and sounds again!


Today is such a bright, warm day. From my window I can see everything-trees,buildings, people- encompassed by the sun's warm glow. Stepping out I can smell fresh grass and mud. Someone's mowing the lawn. Walking down the Broadgate hill I can see the cherry blossoms on both sides competing for attention. The tiny pink flowers have just started blooming, they remind me of tiny babies opening their little eyes. They already give the place a whole new feel!









Walking out of broadgate park and towards uni I see daffodils. Bright, sunny, makes-you-smile, daffodils. Everywhere! They are lifting their sunny little heads from any place they can find.

And the grass, it seems a brighter shade of green now. From far it looks like this huge velvet spread out. In contrast the sky is a brilliant blue today, without a single cloud scarring it.







I have to detach myself from the sight of the green and blue treats and get back on track to class. Walking further, I am greeted by weeping willows who don't seem so morose now as they are getting their leaves back. They do look like they are sulking, almost like a teenager denied a party, but as long as they aren't  leafless, I'm fine.

 

I'm getting late for class, so I walk faster and, for the first time, the wind on my face feels good. Behind me I hear two girls discussing where this wind might be coming from. One of them says it's easy to know where it's coming from- if it's warm it's from France, if it's cold it's from Norway. And I smile at yet another conversation about the weather.


It's tough to force myself into the class looking at everyone else just enjoying themselves out there. While messing up my French conjugation, I find myself longing for the sun's warmth on my face and the feel of comfortingly  prickly grass against my skin.


Soon it's time to leave. I step outside and just breathe in. Deeply. The air is sweet as it fills my lungs. I see some students already out in the lawn, and more claiming the spots before they are taken. Some are reading books, some are sitting in circle, talking and laughing, and others just lying on the grass and looking at the sky.

I stay for some time and then make my way back. Now I notice some things I didn't notice while coming to class: The sounds. Since I'm already getting used to the sights of spring my brain gives me a chance to pick out the sounds. I hear birds. Many of them. Chirping, twittering, singing...it's not organised but yet there's some rhythm in their calls. And once you pay attention you can hear how different they are, and yet how their voices together just form melody.


Before I know it I'm back in my room and all I can think of is if the creation can overwhelm my senses like this with their beauty, what about the creator?