Leaves are mirrored on the surface of the window still. The image gives away a dreamy mood, its colours being merely white, creme, yellow and a little pink.

I never wanted Spring to arrive. I just never wanted it to leave.

Sounds by my window at 7:26 pm MESZ

It’s May and we are spoiled with warm air from the south that also brings storm and rain and thunder. For the most part, Spring has felt more like Winter. The last two days, we suddenly had over 20°C, sometimes almost 30°C, and Spring suddenly felt like Summer. When I went for a walk today, this warm air made life itself feel unreal. Walking between fields of rapeseed and grain felt more like a daydream than reality. Leaves that seemed so small before have doubled or even tripled in size. The Forrest’s most striking colour isn’t that orange or brownish hue anymore, it is now a juicy, being-reborn green. In a flash, Nature’s in bloom.

To me, these warmer Spring days let an indescribable feeling arise. I don’t know what it is, maybe uncertainty? It’s normal for warmer temperatures to eventually arrive, I know that, but when they finally do, it still feels unexpected.

Leaves are mirrored on the surface of the window still. The image gives away a dreamy mood, its colours being merely white, creme, yellow and a little pink.

I could sit on my desk for hours, staring out of the window before me that is decorated with the arms of our tree just outside the house. Seeing the leaves grow so fast is mesmerizing. I feel like I can almost watch them grow every second my eyes absorb their green strength. When I open the window and the fresh oxygen-filled air flows across my face, it feels like I wasn’t breathing before.

It’s not just the air that makes a desk by an open window so inviting, it’s also the excitement and abrupt need of closing the window in a hurry when a bee sums undeterred into your direction, right to the inside world (which is the wrong world for her). When I carefully reopen the window again, there’s that fresh air again, flowing across my face, opening the door to my hidden senses, reminding me that I am well alive and part of Nature as well.

It’s not quiet, this world outside my window. There’s chitchat, laughter, a scream. The birds are surely arguing about our existence and whether humans should be allowed to live on earth much further. If they wanted, they could conspire and kill us all. I love birds. I love that I do not really understand their language. Listening to their talks and singing and melodies seems like listening to a foreign language in a foreign country. But here the foreign country is nothing else but Nature and the country is our planet.

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