Opening windows is a dangerous business; you never know what might happen. Closed up tight everything is controllable, secured, known. It’s a no-surprises world during winter: no errant breezes blowing papers around or unexpected odors wafting through the screen.
I’ve been living in that closed world for a long time, going through my own personal winter as dark and cold as the one I face outside every morning. Nature is cyclical, and we humans are part of that cycle. No matter how long and brutal the winter, spring always comes.
The ice and snow are retreating, and I have started to open a few windows. I’m reawakening to the outside world. Some of it is wonderful, scents and scenes I haven’t been privy to in a year and a half. Other parts are not. Spring winds blow warm and inviting, but can abruptly change. Damages can happen. Still… I’m tired of breathing stale air. I’m ready, even though I know the risk.
I opened some windows, and so far, I’ve gotten more rain than sun, more gusts than sweet gentle breezes; but that’s Okay. I can shut the window against the rain, but I’ll open it back up again. Because the only way to get that warm, wonderful sun and fresh scent of growing things is to leave those windows open.