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Changing seasons

Spring has slapped me in the face.

The air has changed, swinging between smelling like a wet dog after a day of drizzle and the sweet blossom spilling from bee filled trees.

On a break from staring at my screen, I noticed the bare tree limbs were now sprouting pale green leaves. When did this happen?

I woke up on September 1 and everything had changed.

Too warm to wear shorts, it’s hot and dry. The morning isn’t cold enough to make me reach for my uggs, the night still thick with heat and making the blankets on my bed feel oppressive.

I miss the cold. I wasn’t ready to change seasons, to experience spring in a new city.

Spring blossom smells the same but the streets and my memories have changed.

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