spring starts today.

technically it started a couple weeks or so ago. you'd never know it by the weather here, which seems to be the customary way people distinguish between seasons, but this is california and what i tell people when they ask about the weather is that there are two seasons here: the one where the high is sixty and the one where the low is sixty.

that's not the case everywhere though, i remember when i lived in illinois, snow would be on the ground well into april, which is to say well into the spring, when it's really s'posed to be more of a winter thing. so other than the weather, and in the absence of the calendar of course, the only real surefire way to tell if it's spring is whenever baseball season starts.

it's funny, i don't even think i like baseball that much, i'm not a die hard by any stretch, like if someone was to ask me "hey do you like baseball?" i'd likely say something along the lines of "i guess, it's ok." i wrote about my affinity for the rangers, and since i live out of the area, they come on tv infrequently enough, usually only when they play the angels, that i'll usually make a point to watch the whole game whenever they're on.

beyond that, i'm not sure what the appeal is and why it seems to be such a landmark. maybe it's just that, it's a landmark, like one of those things that provides a familiar sort of comfort. it's like the feeling i'd get when i'd cross from arkansas into texas on a drive home from wheaton, one of those things that just sorta tells you that the universe is working the way it's supposed to, which is exactly the kind of feeling whose significance can never be underestimated.

feeling: content
thinking of: being seven years old
music: "found out about you" gin blossoms