Perfect Days

At some point in the past two days whilst walking through Boston in the beautiful spring sunshine (am I jumping the gun by calling it spring? Probably), my freckles came out. It's weird, I know, but growing up I always aspired to be one of those magnificently freckled people who get cute sunburned cheeks and a full face of tiny brown spots. Those same people are prone to ultimately ending up with skin cancer, but as a filthy child I didn't care about such things and gazed longingly at pictures of Pippi Longstocking and Huck Finn who ran through the sunshine with reckless abandon, their faces sprinkled with a smattering of sweet freckles.

I like to think that like the budding trees and growing grass, my freckles are some indication that winter is definitively behind us, however I know I'll probably get impaled by a rogue icicle for saying so.

Ho hum.