Maybe it was the way last week’s muddled grey clouds hovered like dust over my soul or the unexpected chill that forced us back into winter coats. Maybe we needed an event to share with friends — an art fair — to beckon Spring’s rich tapestry. Or maybe it was simply our waiting, our rituals of taking meals and coffee and play outdoors waiting for Spring, the true one who stays. Regardless of why, this weekend she came with sun and wind, blowing away the dust and chill, leaving us with pink shoulders. My heart is alive.