Flowers

So Monday, as you know if you read that day's ramble of a post, was my birthday.

In Mexico, we sing a special birthday song, that says "el dia en que tu naciste, nacieron todas las flores" It translates as "the day that you were born, all the flowers were born."  Every year, right around my birthday, the flowers really do bloom here in Toronto. It's an amazing thing. I'm not egotistical enough to believe that all of nature is actually conspiring to make things beautiful just for me, but I sure do appreciate it.

I don't know what it's like where you are, how the seasons change, or if there is a reasonable similarity throughout. I don't remember the changes being very noticeable in Mexico but I was young. In Toronto, the changes are palpable, starting with a gradual change in the air that leads weeks later to a sudden burst of colour - be it pink and yellow, green, orange and red or white.

We've just hit that burst. It's lovely. It is seriously my favourite week of the year, and I swear it has nothing to do with my birthday. Ok maybe a little. But not really. I just love how you go to bed one day and you can barely see the tips of colour if you look for them, and you wake up the next morning to the tree in full bloom. It's amazing, inspiring, awe-inducing and just so very very lovely.

So today my patio doors are flung wide, the springy freshness is making its way inside, and I can lie on the couch and enjoy it all while being comfy and not exerting myself further in any way whatsoever.

It makes me happy.