Today is May 3rd.
The cherry blossoms have been blooming for a few weeks now, the sun is out and it finally feels like Spring.
I have been spending every free minute outside.
Hanging with friends while breathing in the fresh air, strolling through the numerous green spaces New York has to offer, slowly beginning to embrace picnic season and also making the change from hot coffees to iced chai.
I have a confession to make, and that is that I have never truly cared for Spring, until this year.
There are numerous reasons for this, but a main factor most definitely has to do with location. There is a lot to be said about living in a city like New York City, which experiences four very distinct seasons. Growing up in Ireland I always found it much more difficult to clearly distinguish between seasons, often finding that each one would blend into the next.
I can't even begin to recall how many times I have been told and have heard about the dreaded 'first year in New York City'- with the first year reputed to be the very worst, the toughest, the loneliest.
I consider myself extremely lucky in this regard because from the moment I arrived, I was happy.
I had a wonderful apartment with two of the absolute best roommates imaginable and I was welcomed into a small creative community where I felt like I instantly belonged, while befriending people with similar artistic mindsets (finally!) whom I knew almost right away would be close friends for life.
If I am being perfectly honest...
...this has been the easiest transition of my life so far.
So here's to Spring, and to being free.