It’s a beautiful day. Not warm, not cool, but the same temperature as my body. 


I typically prefer it cooler, sunny with a brisk breeze that requires a sweater. 


But this, it reminds me of Brazil. Maybe it’s just bc I’m writing this from my Brazilian hammock in my backyard. And the last time i spent hours in a hammock was on my grandparents farm in Brazil


The wind shakes the large trees, powerful enough to move the old, thick branches. It brings the leaves off the roof. The tiny brown leaves cascade down, falling like an autumn rain. But it’s spring. In Florida. The lizards are doing their mating dances. I actually don’t like the lizards here. The beetles are lazily roaming my outdoor dining table. I actually like the beetles. 


With this perfect weather, the perfect deep hum of our wind chimes, I love this. I needed this. I don’t want this to end. I hope it never ends. I feel like I’m on vacation. After six years of winter, I hope this always feels like vacation. Someday it might grow old. In August, the height of Florida's hot, humid summer, I'll be sweating just looking at my sunlit backyard. But I hope I appreciate this time when most of our time was spent at home, and my own home felt like a respite from the gloomy world. I hope I never have to leave this home. 

It’s a beautiful day. Not warm, not cool, but the same temperature as my body. 


I typically prefer it cooler, sunny with a brisk breeze that requires a sweater. 


But this, it reminds me of Brazil. Maybe it’s just bc I’m writing this from my Brazilian hammock in my backyard. And the last time i spent hours in a hammock was on my grandparents farm in Brazil


The wind shakes the large trees, powerful enough to move the old, thick branches. It brings the leaves off the roof. The tiny brown leaves cascade down, falling like an autumn rain. But it’s spring. In Florida. The lizards are doing their mating dances. I actually don’t like the lizards here. The beetles are lazily roaming my outdoor dining table. I actually like the beetles. 


With this perfect weather, the perfect deep hum of our wind chimes, I love this. I needed this. I don’t want this to end. I hope it never ends. I feel like I’m on vacation. After six years of winter, I hope this always feels like vacation. Someday it might grow old. In August, the height of Florida's hot, humid summer, I'll be sweating just looking at my sunlit backyard. But I hope I appreciate this time when most of our time was spent at home, and my own home felt like a respite from the gloomy world. I hope I never have to leave this home. 

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