Ahhhhhh. Those first few warm days that signify the coming of Spring.
When I was growing up in rural Vermont, those first few warm days always started out so fresh and full of possibility. The sun generally hid behind high grey clouds from early November, so we needed that seasonal shift. We heard the birds chirping outside, pushed aside the curtains, squeaked open the wooden sliding windows, blew the dust off the sills, took some deep breaths of that long-missed sunshine, and felt the warmth of the air on our faces.
Of course, those first few warm days also coincided with the first big manure spreading in the fields below our house.
As I opened my windows today in Colorado, under loud birds and impossibly blue springlike skies, I laughed as I remembered that feeling of urgency as we rushed to get those deep fresh breaths in before the aroma of the spreading hit and we cranked everything closed again.
And then I relished the fact that today, I could leave my windows open all day long.