01/09/2026
Spring out here is a date before it is anything else. The trees are still bare, the grass is long finished, and the rain is weeks off yet. Nothing changed this morning because a calendar said so.
It comes slowly. The days stretch a little further each week, the knobthorns will flower, the migrants will find their way back, and one morning you notice the green has started without telling anyone.
For now, this is what the first evening of it looked like. The first day of spring, closing.