p.s. my march window view

a love letter to the first month of spring

Apr 06, 2026

Dear Window Seat is a photo journal filled with fujifilm photographs, travel adventures, and slow living between destinations. From my window seat to yours 💌
Can listen to spring in coming by morunas while reading x

March was so anew.

and there’s something playfully cruel about the way he—false spring—teased her for it. because false spring was just a trickster, winter fae in a sunny disposition mask, unwilling to relinquish his power.

he flirted with warmth, dropping hints of a brighter life without ever fully committing to it. he taunted in the mornings, his airy laugh crisp and stubborn. I stepped outside wrapped in layers, breath visible, hands tucked away—and the next instant—I was caught off guard by sunlight that felt almost too generous. I trusted it, briefly. I believed it was there to stay. And then, just as quickly, the clouds shrouded the sky, and I was reminded once again to stop falling for his tricks.

even some of spring’s blossoms appeared early, bold and hopeful, only to shrivel against his unexpected cold shoulder the next morning. I wondered if spring regretted it like I did, blooming with hope before her time, or if the act of trying to match his boastful energy was a test of her own bravery. There’s a lesson in that somewhere, I think—in the courage it takes to begin even when you’re not fully prepared for it.

because I watched the true spring fae of march push against his cruelty, despite.

I saw it in her vibrant green blades of grass pushing through soil that hasn’t fully shaken off his relentless frost. In her sturdy branches that, day by day, flexed their muscles to show the growth of buds. In the way her voice started to hum again in—a symphony of crickets in the increasingly, longer nights; a series of lively barks from the neighboring park; a growing buzz of bumblebees in the garden; a burst of color from yellow tulips, pink magnolias, white cherry blossoms, and purple wisterias. and by the end of the month, her spirited bravery declared her place in power, after all.

in fact, all those things combined reminded me more that the world can be a brighter place far more than any unreliable, sunny day the trickster fae occasionally gave.

it made me wonder why we ever chose the january as a marker for new beginnings and resolutions when march is the true marker for it.