Written by Patricia 

April 12, 2020

 

As we are soon approaching the end of spring, I sit still, outside, in what must be one of the last cool breeze of yet another season; the strong winds pushing last year's dead leaves, the few speckles of snow remaining on the ground, and the sight of flower buds around the city.

We feel ourselves changing with the season, as the sunny days are suddenly more accessible to us. I’m imagining myself walking around the streets, watching people breath in the warmer breeze and the summer weather, but I am home, still at home. I crack open the windows or every bedroom and my eyes embrace the movement of the curtains as the wind softly blows in.

Little things. These particles, these moments, they belong to us, and we ought to hold them tight for the rainy days. Every second we take to cherish the pretty sounds, the breathtaking images we see with our own eyes, they build our lives and we are the driver of its complexity.

And I'm still sitting still, in what must be one of the last cool breeze of the season, and I'll wait patiently for the next moment when I will be able to wander around and regain my freedom, the one I never really valued as I should have. I am sitting and waiting for the next little thing that will bring on the next smile, because the little things, are simply the biggest ones, and possibly the most magnificent; those that are priceless but of infinite value.