Ides of Spring

I want to be clear from the beginning of this post: I am not writing in response to a certain comment by a certain demanding someone. I am writing because I finally felt inspired again. I do not produce on demand. (Though it is nice to know that someone is paying attention.)

Today, I'm reflecting on the coming of spring. There are many signs in the southland that spring is here. Trees with full green leaves, increasingly green grass, azaleas and dogwoods in full bloom, warmer temperatures, and shorter sleeves. And, let's not forget the pollen haze that turns everything a pale shade of yellow and took my voice away for approximately one week.


But, my favorite sign of spring has to be the annual unveiling of my chicken-white winter feet. Hidden from the world for the entire winter, my feet emerge, ready to shed socks and enjoy open-toed shoes. To celebrate this momentous occasion, I dressed up my toes. They're ready for their close-up, Mr. DeMille. Who knows, I may go hog-wild and treat myself to a pedicure.

Since applying this spring decoration, I've worn sandals twice. Both times, my little piggies squealed with delight. My feet basked in the sunlight, ready to shed the whiter shade of winter pale for a slightly darker shade of summer pale.

As I wear my flip-flops, I realize that my winter feet have softened. In this early spring, I'm actually enjoying the minor discomfort between the little piggy that went to market and the little piggy who stayed home. Such a welcome change from dowdy winter shoes and socks.