Seasons Spring [top] May 2026

You step out without a coat for the first time since October. The air smells of wet earth and something sweeter—pear blossoms, maybe, or just the promise of them. A breeze lifts your hair, not to bite your cheeks, but to remind you: you survived the dark. You made it through.

Outside, the world is still mostly brown and grey, but look closer. The tips of branches are swollen with tiny fists of green. Crocus blades push through the half-frozen soil like needles through cloth. A single purple bloom, brave and reckless, cups a droplet of last night's rain. seasons spring

And you, standing in your thin shirt, squinting at the sun—you are almost yourself again, too. You step out without a coat for the first time since October