Hello dear penpal, I’ve started to think of you as my penpal, I hope that’s okay with you! As I write this, I’m seated in my kitchen, surrounded by beautiful birdsong— playing from Spotify, but effective in its illusion all the same. I’m facing the sun, who’s coquettishly peeping out from a hazy wall of grey clouds. I feel she’s come to see what I’m cooking, and to ask if I’d like her to shine a bit to complete my Springtime fantasy.