There is something about walking home from the subway at night when there is just a hint of a chill in the air that makes me a little hopeful.
I know that spring is supposed to be the season that evokes that emotion, what with having waited through the long, dark, cold winter to get to it, but it's the idea of cold noses and warm drinks and mittens and eskimo kisses that gets me excited.
Maybe it's because this year I have everything that I could have ever wished for in my dreams. Maybe it's because my favorite clothes are wool and leather and a mishmash of tweeds. Or maybe it's because I know there is something terribly exciting on the horizon.