In Russia the first of March is celebrated as the first day of spring. And even though I have been here in the United States for almost twenty years (longer than I have lived back in the good old USSR), this is one of those traditions that stuck, I guess, because today my step has that extra spring in it.
I love all seasons. But since childhood, spring has been special. Back in Russia it meant shedding heavy coats at last, getting to stay out in the yard later, looking for podsnezhniki, or snowdrop flowers in the woods with my babushka. Â Spring meant teachers getting kinder. Spring meant suddenly noticing a cute boy in my class.
Today spring still holds a promise. Spring makes it okay to be glad, silly, exuberant. There is something about this season that speaks to the kid I still am.
So I’d like to take this occasion to wish you happy spring, dear friends and readers. May your life fill with birdsong, may it sprout with many new shoots.
love,
Katia
Katiaesque 
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