Kathryn Nicolai

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.

as I walked along 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,

and the feeling of spring air in my lungs.

The scents and sights of the new season had me feeling cheery and grateful just to be on the street today.

I turned down an alley and stopped to window shop.

there were bouquets of roses and calla lilies already wrapped in pretty paper and tied with bows in the window of the flower shop.