Carolina Spring


Sunshine, sundresses, Open Eye iced lattes. Blueberry wheat at Topo, afternoons on the porch featuring books and giggles and lovely people. Quad sitting, Weaver Street, class is the worst. Warm greens, baby yellows, bluest blue skies, thunderstorm watching and rainbows. Windows open, books closed, responsibility shirked. Cherry trees and daffodils; happiness. Pick-up soccer to sweat and tan lines. Tru afternoons // He’s Not evenings // Looking Glass Mondays. James Taylor and soft, quiet morning light that streaks through the newly sprung leaves peaking out to see if it’s just (maybe quite) warm enough. Beautiful is inadequate, imprecise.

Magical moments at dawn and dusk when the light decides to come and go slowly, gradually, smudging pastels across the sky. Moments, so many of them; remember, they’re important. Laughs & freckles, pass the sunscreen please. Hazy, lazy air, bees are chatting, watch out for mosquitoes, fireflies still in hiding. Fall in love over and over, with lots of people, lots of places. Bare feet, warm pavement, rocking chairs. Study in the arboretum \ daydream in the arboretum.

Baseball games [socializing, not watching], pit sitting, picnics and brunch. Kenan sunsets— but be careful, the Bell Tower is ringing time away slowly but ever so quickly (can time stop). Maple View and Yopo, ice cream is a food group? Don’t think about leaving, don’t think about leaving, don’t think about leaving. You’re oh so lucky, did you know?

{[this is happiness]}

*I originally wrote this post for a stream of consciousness writing experiment in Branding of Me. William Faulkner is one of my all-time favorite writers, so I was excited about attempting the writing style for which he’s famous. I took the prompt in a slightly different direction, but nonetheless here’s the end result.