Western Hemisphere.
Early July.
Sweltering weather.

The air thick with flags and grievance.
The summer humidity the least part
of the suffocating atmosphere.

Early summer evening. Smell of wet pavement.
The line forms early — that’s the whole point.
Tickets scanned.
Eyes struggling to adjust to the dark interior.
Heartbeat climbing as the dance floor comes into view.

Spring Equinox.
Finally.
But after weeks of waiting, it arrives as just another quiet Friday.

Two weeks before the spring equinox.
USDA Zone 6b — two long months before the last frost date.
Still too cold to get into the garden.

Bottom of Winter. Somewhere in the Heartland. Mid-morning.

The leaves underfoot no longer crackle. Long months buried under frost, then snow, have weathered them. Softened them.

You know the feeling. That’s why your boots carry you into the forest.

The snow is gone, though winter still lingers in the wind. The ground is dark with melt and the sky holds its gray.

You’ve got a few errands to tend to — and a standing date with yourself at your favorite coffee shop.