Tehya is Tired... of Eternal Winter
Tehya Is Tired… of Eternal Winter
Written by Tehya Tenasco
It’s downright cruel to call it “spring semester” when the soft, green grass is being kept prisoner by feet upon feet of snow. February and the early weeks of March are especially rough. Constant overcast skies, biting winds, brownish gray snowbanks, and surprise blizzards makes it difficult to leave the warmth of my blankets, nevermind making it to class. Curse that groundhog and his shadow.
At the news of a post Valentine’s Day blizzard, my hopes of a gentle spring welcome were promptly crushed. Too fearful to face 75 mph winds, and just plain sick of the thick layers needed to walk 10 minutes down the street, I stowed away at my girlfriend’s off campus apartment. I had a lovely time watching the chubby pigeons and twitchy sparrows fight over her windowsill for safety from the squalls.
Spring is a humble blessing. It doesn’t announce itself quite the same way as summer or winter. Spring is a quick peck on the iciness of a cheek, signaling to the world that the great thaw has finally arrived. Spring is unexpectedly harmonious, calling to people from all corners of the city to doze off under waking trees and soak up the fresh sunshine. Every year, spring stirs about an innate intensity within me, inspiring me to write and read and listen to the roaring melodies of the surrounding world. Don’t get me wrong, I’m absolutely obsessed with the dark coziness of winter, but it’s alright to feel something has overstayed its welcome. This is very much a love letter to the months of April and May (the wild rabbits of Boston, too).
I think I’ve always loved spring, and will continue to honor its arrival for the rest of my life. My birthday is in early May, so my practice of grace during this period has always been extremely personal; rooted in internal reflection and recollection. With celebration brings energy, and I adore the electricity of the springtime. Merriment in a calm and collected manner compared to the holiday season. Livewires sparking baby pink and daffodil yellow; people crowding the snow-free streets all seem attuned to the same giddy zaps.
This coming spring, my goal is to walk. Walk as far as can, for as long as I can, and pass as many people as I can. I want to embody the slowness of those surprisingly warm days in April, and take the time to connect with the smallest earthworm. I can hear my mind growling. I am hungry for rebirth.
Spots to Take in the Springtime Sunshine
The Esplanade Docks along the Charles River
The Sipping Room cafe in Kenmore (short walk from the Museum of Fine Arts)
Mr. Tea on Newbury Street