
A gem-like piece humbled by layers of abnegation.
Her heart, unsettlingly weightless, is so buoyed that she fears it might drift away.
With a vast distance in between,
Filled with anticipation and openness.
As winter slowly fades away, I find myself noticing the subtle signs that spring is just around the corner. It’s like the world is waking up after a long nap. The bare trees, once stark against the gray sky, are starting to show the tiniest buds, and there’s a new softness in the air that wasn’t there just a few weeks ago. I’ve always found the transition from winter to spring to be a special time, almost like a quiet celebration of life starting over.
The cold season can feel like it’s never going to end. The days are short, the nights are long, and everything seems to move a little more slowly. I often catch myself daydreaming about the sun, imagining what it will feel like when it finally warms my face again. But there’s something comforting about the stillness of winter, too. It’s a time to slow down, to rest, and to reflect on the months that have passed. I find myself huddling indoors, reading more, thinking more, and appreciating the cozy moments that come with the cold.
But then, just when it feels like winter might last forever, the first hints of spring start to appear. The frost begins to melt, leaving behind little rivers of water that make their way to the gutters. The birds return, their songs filling the morning air, and suddenly, the world doesn’t seem so quiet anymore. I always feel a sense of excitement when I notice the first green shoots pushing up through the earth, as if nature itself is saying, “We made it through.”
Singing,
Soothing,
Soaring.
Spring is like a fresh start, a time when everything feels possible. I love watching the flowers bloom, each one adding a new splash of color to the world. The trees that were bare just weeks ago are now covered in blossoms, and the air is filled with the sweet scent of new growth. There’s an energy that comes with it—a feeling that it’s time to shake off the winter blues and embrace the warmth and light. It’s a season that makes me want to get outside, be active, plant something, or start a new project.
I think that’s why I’ve always felt a deep connection to spring—it’s a reminder that life is full of cycles and that after every period of rest or struggle, there’s a chance for renewal. It’s like nature’s way of telling us that no matter how hard or cold things might seem, there’s always hope just around the corner. I find myself more optimistic, more willing to take on challenges or try new things. It’s a time to let go of what’s passed, to forgive myself for any missteps, and to focus on what lies ahead.
I’m reminded of the resilience of life. The world around me, which seemed so dormant and quiet, suddenly bursts into color and sound. It’s a time of year that never fails to lift my spirits and fill me with a sense of wonder and gratitude. Spring, with all its new beginnings, encourages me to step into the light, embrace change, and look forward to the possibilities that the coming months will bring.
Love is all around,
Alive—restless, even.
I’ll find a way through it.
Looking at this sunrise, I remembered a quote I recently read that really stuck with me: ‘I wake up expecting things’ by Fleur Cowles.
I’ve been feeling a strong connection with birds lately. Someone mentioned that coincidences are God’s most subtle miracles, and nature is proof of that. Perhaps birds could be like mentors, speaking in a language we’re just beginning to understand.
I like to think of mentors as those who reveal the photographs we capture every day with our hearts. They can be anyone who teaches us something or anyone we cross paths with throughout our lives.
Building bridges, much like the journey of a bird learning to fly, is a deeply personal experience. Just as a bird with broken wings must find the strength and courage to soar again, we too face challenges that require us to rebuild and reconnect. Mentors often play a crucial role in this process, guiding us and providing the support we need to navigate our own flights. Their wisdom helps us construct our own bridges—those connections between our current selves and our aspirations. Each step we take, each lesson learned, is like a bird learning to spread its wings a little wider, finding new heights and possibilities.
Many writers worry that they might sound cringe, no matter what theme they’re writing about. In the end, we can only hope the reader will connect with our words in the right way. That thought comforts me. I understand how tough it can be to open up and share our thoughts and feelings, so I’m grateful for your companionship.
xo,
Thaíssa.
Sharing our thoughts in as true a version as we can present them is all we can do — the rest is up to something higher.
Lovely words Thaissa
Thank you Thaissa, there are so many gems of wisdom in this essay. Your words about mentors are wise, just as the reminder to dig deep and build bridges is.
I wish you a happy, wonderful spring as we are heading into autumn. Also, I always appreciate your pictures!