I stood in a field of small yellow flowers, so tiny the green of stems peeked through every gap between them.

The sky was a deep blue and clear, and the crest of the hill I stood on covered half of it. The instinctual curiosity of what lay past the dome-against-sky came sharply, but faded as my attention was drawn towards something more relevant.

I looked down to find a white scallop-edged apron and a full skirt. It felt like there was a bonnet on my head. It felt too conservative, even in the chilled spring air.

I wandered up the hill slightly and there saw a tall wooden pole, as thick as a tree trunk. At the base was a woman in a soft chartreuse colored frock with a man in white. They danced, taking no notice of me.

I moved closer — invisible, reticent — awkward in my thick, heavy wool clothing.

They turned their faces upward to the warming sun and danced unaware of my presence, or anything. They were happy to meet the new sun. They seemed free.

As I watched, I suddenly noticed the coldness inside of me.

The pole stood close, and as I looked left towards it, I broke out of the trance of curiosity and the taste of something delicious and new. Pale, soft colored ribbons hung from the tree pole. I hadn’t seen them before. The flowing pair felt like a warm breeze. They grabbed hold of a ribbon, and intoxicated, I followed suit.

It was uncomfortable — viscerally so— and that feeling of discomfort crawled sharply just under my skin then throughout the depths of my body. I flinched, twisted, and then felt shame. It burned in my chest and was hot in my face, but I picked up a ribbon, and joined the dance.

The sun was rising high and the thickness and weight of my clothing made my turns awkward.

I had worn this clothing for a long time, but in this new movement it tweaked my balance and drew my attention to the lack of grace in my moves.

We turned about the pole, the colors streaming down, ribbons wrapped in a loose pattern. I felt something, maybe it was awe, but the weight of the clothing kept me just a little too distracted to sink into it — far from being able to enjoy the beautiful wood we had transformed with our movements.

Then the two free birds started to reverse. Why were they undoing what we had spent this time creating? But the thought didn’t stop them, or me from dancing in reverse, carelessly but somehow gracefully untangling the pattern.

I joined, and slipped into a warped inch of time, coming out of the other side to see a naked pole. As for me, I felt light and free, and I too had clothes of the lightest fabric, flowing in the breeze and finally felt the sun tanning my skin. I turned my face up and sighed in relief.

Spring had come.