26 March 2010
Spring. Printemps. Forår.
It's official. Springtime is here. Yesterday was a cracking day splashed with sunshine. There was a still an opaque haze in the air but it was like the last bits of down on a baby bird waiting to fly with its new feathers.
Copenhageners, like other fine Nordic folk in the throes of early spring, took to the open air to soak it all up. Drinking beers by The Lakes, occupying benches for no other reason than to enjoy the rays of sun caressing them. Jackets off, gloves begone, hats shoved deep into bags.
If springtime isn't smiling while racing pigeons, then I don't what is.
The sun on our faces, our hearts lifting, a new season - maybe the best season of all - is upon us. All memories of the harshest winter in almost two decades evaporated in an instant as soon as you stepped outdoors an unlocked your bike.