Signs of Spring

It’s hard to get used to having spring in February.    It’s too warm for a sweater some days, the heat is turned off more than on, the sidewalk cafés are starting to set their chairs outside more often, I managed to get a sunburn yesterday, and buds are everywhere,

even in the unlikeliest places.

I myself am not actually in the midst of all this blossoming, since I’m away in Burgundy for a week where spring is slower to arrive.  I’m right here, hoping that a miracle will occur and that I’ll become fluent in French in record time.  Or at least that I can reduce the number of silly and embarrassing mistakes that I make on a regular basis.  And that in between conjugating obscure verb forms and flipping dictionary pages I can learn how to prepare snails and other famous Burgundian foods.  And possibly that spring will come to Bourgogne while I’m there, letting me experience one of my favorite seasons twice.

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