It was only a dream...

The low clouds were tumbling across the downtown skyline today, threatening to bring rain in on the gusty winds. It was a gray, gloomy, blustery day - but it was sixty-five degrees as I stopped on the plaza overlooking the river.

It almost smelled like spring.

Last week, it was five below zero. Any exposed skin was immediately shocked into stinging agony upon stepping outside. The wind bit fiercely into the lungs with each breath, and everyone shrugged as far down as possible into their thickest coats to preserve precious body heat. It was bitterly cold, even for Chicago in January.

Today, though, I left my suit jacket in the office when leaving for lunch. Even in a thin white dress shirt, the air felt warm, fresh, and clean. I stood alongside the river, listening to the street musicians that had come out of hiding for the day...the saxophonist behind me was taking his best shot at Take Five. I think it turned out to be in six, but it didn't matter. The city had come back to life, just for today.

As the wind whipped my hopelessly tangling hair into my eyes, I raised my face to the sky. I half-expected raindrops against my cheeks, but felt only the sweet warmth of the air blowing in off the lake. For a very long time, I stood sipping my coffee and listening to the city as it savored the brief respite from the grip of winter.

I wished for a few more moments.

I wished for spring.

I wished for rain.

I wished for...

courage.

And tonight....tonight it rains.