A season for beauty

and a quick hello from London

As I sit down to write today, I’m a little out of practice and slightly intimidated by the blank page. I recently started a new job with a long commute, and I’m still settling into the rhythm of this new routine - I haven’t quite found my flow yet. The good news is that it’s a writing role that keeps my creative muscles active throughout the day. But by the time I get home, after dinner and a few pages of reading, I inevitably drift off to sleep.

All this to say, I haven’t yet figured out the ideal time of the week to share my writing here - or simply to write.

But while I haven’t been putting many thoughts to paper, these past few weeks I've been watching, listening, and witnessing the world shift with the seasons. And that has been a quiet source of joy.

It wasn’t something I sought out; it just happened. Which led me to a thought: spring can feel like a time when, no matter how busy life gets, beauty comes into focus - whether I like it or not, whether I’m prepared for it or not.

The Cambridge dictionary defines beauty as: the quality of being pleasing and attractive, especially to look at.

To which I’d like to add: but not only to look at. Also to smell, to hear, to touch, to taste.

For me, beauty has often felt slightly out of reach, maybe because I instinctively associate its enjoyment with having a lot of free time to do the things I love. Going to an art gallery without rush, a long walk in the park, dinner at a restaurant. And so, many times I’ve unconsciously told myself: I don’t have the space for beauty until everything else is in order, until everything is perfect.

Then spring arrives, right on time, as a reminder that no matter how chaotic, busy, or uncertain life feels, earth slowly awakens and a certain kind of beauty - maybe it’s just aliveness - unfolds anyway. And it doesn’t need permission to do so.

Some years it feels great, others less so. In 2024, I wasn’t ready for spring when it showed up. I wasn’t ready because I needed to stay a little longer in my winter cocoon.

But this year it feels different, and this is what it looks like right now:

• Passing a tree in bloom in the morning, then seeing it changed at sunset on my way home

• Waiting for April and the first taste of strawberries

• Sitting for ten minutes in the sun during a lunch break

• Music drifting to the street from an open window

• Switching to a lighter fragrance

• Walking to the bookstore to collect the latest issue of the Paris Review

• The smell of a fresh batch of cookies in the oven

• Sitting on the balcony to sip coffee

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This kind of beauty is not out of reach and doesn’t take effort. It’s hidden in familiar places and in tiny, everyday moments, as long as I’m there to notice it.

Thank you for reading.

See you next week with a recap of everything I read in March. ♡

Stefania