this morning, there's a calm I can't explain.

Seasonal change is something I take great delight in. There is this immense beauty in fading from one kind of weather to the next, no matter how subtle. While the crisp air of fall remains my favorite, I've begun to enjoy the transitions more than the actual seasons themselves. With summer comes the feeling of freedom and the smell of barbecue. Summer to fall means a return to order, schedules, and hot apple cider donuts. Fall to winter is anticipation...the smells, the sounds, the snow, and the feelings associated with the holiday season are beautiful.

But February is UGLY.

Valentine's Day had to have been thrown in as a consolation prize for what an ugly, depressing, dark, dismal, and yucky month we have. I am always in a slightly depressed mood during the month of February. The snow is brown, the novelty of the cold has faded, and I would give my left pinky toe for some sunshine and warmish wind.

Yesterday I spent the majority of my day indoors, aware that the sun was shining, but unable to fully enjoy it. However, one can resist the scent of change for only so long...

Practically ripping my window open, I willed in all the sunshine and fresh air possible. The air inside was so stifled and stale, I couldn't help but sit half of my body onto the ledge for a few moments to drink it in. Suddenly I was revived, my worker instincts pushed my body into full gear. Windows open and music loud, I attacked the room that needed the most work: my bathroom. We all have the best intentions when it comes to cleaning our bathrooms--we know that a general clean up once a week is okay, but that good scrubbing should be done as often as possible. Like deep conditioning our hair, we intend to do it, but we never seem to have the time. Instead the traditional shampoo, rinse, and superficial condition happens. The flood gave me the perfect reason and means to finally clean and organize those areas of neglect.

Somehow, the dusting and organizing were therapeutic. The cleaning solutions mixed with the almost-spring air were invigorating. Even throwing myself into the baseboards felt cathartic. With each scrub of the dust and winter build up I felt as though I was scrubbing away at my soul, the dead and negative thoughts and feelings being exfoliated away.

An hour later, organization and order stared from what was previously chaos. The surfaces that had been dull were now shiny. The air wasn't a contrived lime verbana plug-in, but the indescribable smell of revival. Staring at the gleaming shower and catching my reflection in my faucet, I rejoiced in the rebirth and renewal.

I rejoiced in clarity.