First of May

It was sunny yesterday, but I didn't go out. Part of freedom is knowing that you also have tomorrow. So it's May Day today, a day to mark the height of spring, and I am walking through Richmond Park.

Freedom means no nausea, after more than a month laid low. Freedom means no classes: last final just finished, after three years of the program. It means love is assured, my body is capable, the future is broad and open.

It does not mean that I don't tire easily; I don't have the energy I'm used to. But it means that I can lie down when there's a log or meadow that calls to me and rest the belly that isn't big yet, but already feels ever-full.

Blooming chestnut trees and petrichor are as omnipresent as birdsong in this sprawling green space. The sky is heavy, fecund, little drops beginning already to reach my face. But isn't this right, for spring?

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