I have a friend who recently told me he pumps up so many endorphins when he goes on a run that he often ends his route skipping home. I told him my running experiences were similar if you subbed "skipping" for "limping."

However, I can relate, kind of. Plenty of other things, especially during Spring, make me skip, and maybe even dance. A new energy fills the air when it gets warmer, in sunlit rooms, on wind-whipped drives and on golden (happy) hour strolls. We feel more alive, like some deeply endearing piece of ourselves was kept in a sleep chamber or under a heavy rock all winter. We can never quite explain it, but we're more awake than before. Some stone has rolled. And suddenly, the possibilities seem endless. We daydream of trips to the river or across the pond to a patio in Paris, just to get away and more importantly, outside the four walls of our air condition-chilled, windowless offices, which show no signs of a living and thriving Spring. 

As we breathe in all this floral air and daydream of outdoor escapades and transition our method of travel to sidewalks, we might find our steps quicken with our hearts. And before we all know it, we'll be skipping home, too.

“It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.”  ― Rilke