Spring may have sprung (hence the title), but this is Idaho: it snowed only a week ago and was in the fifties a week before that. Still, it’s warm enough to have your window open and I love it, so we’ll call it a draw.
I really love Mary Chapin Carpenter, though her songs are really better for summer. I’m not sure what constitutes good spring music. Don McLean is kind of spring-ish, but he’s also quite summery. Ludovico Einaudi is definitely spring music. Some Owl City is spring music (I think All Things Bright and Beautiful is probably the best spring-wise). The Red Button is good for spring, too. Free…I’ve never been so free.
I discovered today that a long time ago, sometime after graduating from high school, I said something like, “And when the fall comes I’ll be gone.”
The same is true again, as weird as that sort of feels. When the fall comes, I’ll be gone. Not permanently, certainly not. But to me, who lived all her life in a town where most people spent only a couple years, I am still sort of shaken by the thought that though I am in Pocatello in spring, when fall comes I will be somewhere else. The summer will take me other places, and frankly that freaks me out.
I signed my contract to go back to Sjölunden the other day, and that is now official. Still waiting to hear from Umeå and Waldsee, but I feel confident about approximately 1.5 of those. Sort of nervous about Waldsee. But it’s not like I don’t have a backup plan, and my whole life certainly isn’t riding on it. It’s a win-win, really – either I spend the whole summer having incredible linguisticky fun, or I spend half the summer having incredible linguisticky fun and the other half coaching swimming and being with my family before I leave for the greatest adventure I have yet attempted. And yes, I am melodramatic.
Anyway, life is good and spring is here. Honestly, spring is my favorite. (I say that about every season when it begins – I just find so much joy in the changing of the seasons.) But I love spring in Pocatello – my window is open right now and the breeze on the back of my neck is the greatest thing since sliced bread, and even spring in Idaho, which translates roughly to extra winter until April, is still one of my favorite things in the world.
Good things are everywhere. The world is wide, and a cowboy’s soul can span the whole horizon.