Kathryn Nicolai

I had a couple of the long standard kind, black fabric and a curved handle, and a neat snap to keep it folded when not in use.

And I had a pretty pink one that I'd been given as a child.

It was a bit bent from being included in lots of play.

I remember swinging it around by its handle, leaning on it as I danced in my bedroom while imagining myself center stage in a Broadway show.

Yes, an umbrella is an excellent prop and one I still like to carry when I was out in the world.

especially in the rainy days of spring.

I'd selected one of the long, standard ones today as I left the house.

Its handle was unusual.

Not a curved loop, but a rounded end.

Something like a doorknob, but more slender.

It was made of polished brass, a tiny globe with tinier continents embossed into the metal.

It fit perfectly in my cupped palm as I walked with it, and I couldn't help but hum under my breath.

I've got the whole world in my hand.

And it felt like that today, as I walked along the main street.

The spring was real now, not fleeting, not disappearing for days at a time.

There were crocus and daffodils breaking through the soil,

in the giant stone planter in the square in downtown.

Some shops had their doors propped open to take advantage of the fresh air.

And though the gray skies had me certain that rain was coming, it hadn't come yet.

It had been a long winter.