Finally after a winter of adjectives that all mean gray, I felt the warm air off the lake on my face. I was looking out the 12th story window -- the one that doesn't open. Still it was not my imagination. Call it memory, if you must. Either way, my face and the lake air had connected again.

I grabbed my spring jacket, laced my shoes, and left the building. It was a good seven minutes that I just stood in the sun. I was thinking of the old Ray Bradbury story, "All Summer in a Day." My thoughts were clear on the idea that, if this were the only one, I'd take a day like this to hold in my being for a long, long time.

No direction. I went walking. I suspect I was smiling. Every detail of the new spring was a new life to me. The old lady in the brown winter coat looked so uncomfortable. The man walking the golden retriever looked like he had just been let out of jail. Personally, I felt like a puppy.

Wandering aimlessly. How long since I've done that? How long since I've just let my feet choose the way?

They directed me to a tree-lined side street. I found myself standing before a red brick stately home with a Chinese garden beside it. I watched the water in the stream under the bridge, as I looked through the wrought iron fence.

When I turned to go, my eyes feel on a little patch by a tree near the street. Someone had tossed theblooms from impatiens that had fallen off the potten plant on the porch. Who knows what that person was thinking?

I only know I stood imagining the fairies who brought them there. Had to be fairies, they were too beautiful. I walked home, glad to know that fairies still hang around.

Later that night I discovered a message from a long lost friend.

Sure am glad those fairies are still around.

--me liz strauss, letting me be