Outside the sun shines in all its brilliant glory. The gigantic plane tree is still naked—barely a leaf to cover its many scrawny arms and fingers. But under its stark monstrosity, a carpet of lavender flowers is slowly unfurling, spreading out and overtaking the green grass that had held on to its vibrance through the winter months.
And its just mid February. It seems like spring can hardly wait to come in and shoo the bitterness of winter away.
And I can hardly wait to go out and enjoy the brilliant weather outside, especially knowing how the warmth of the sun has taken the edge of the winter chill that still lingers—hopefully not too long now.
Can hardly wait. How impatient I sound! But these days, I find myself not being able to say, “I can hardly wait to go home.” A few months ago, that would have been so easy to blurt out and mean it. But with friendships formed, life settling into a comfortable, predictable pattern with splashes of spontaneity, the strange has become the familiar—and I find myself singing a different tune.
But then again, as I remember the warmth of the weather back home, the good friends back home, the food back home, the work/lifestyle I enjoy so much back home, I find I can actually say, I can hardly wait.
There are still a number of months before I finally go home but my feelings are as ambiguous and unpredictable as the English weather—now dark and damp, now bright and dry, now sunny and foggy.
If life can simply be like neat little compartments, things would be less ambiguous, less complicated, less of a hassle…and then again, less of a life.
Oh well, I can hardly wait---for life to continue its unfolding. Ambiguity can be the spice of life.
Outside the sun shines in all its brilliant glory. The gigantic plane tree is still naked—barely a leaf to cover its many scrawny arms and fingers. But under its stark monstrosity, a carpet of lavender flowers is slowly unfurling, spreading out and overtaking the green grass that had held on to its vibrance through the winter months. 
