And so it is Spring, and the light hangs around a bit longer, flowers begin pushing their way through the dirt, and the blue sky is making a show of the gray. Spring is the shucking off of the dark, the warming of the chill, and the blooming of the lifeless. It allows color into a dreary existence of short days and long nights, representing change, and renewal, and life.

The unified attitude shifts, as we are finally ready to fold away winter, her earlier welcome of hot chocolate near a (most likely non-crackling) fire has long worn away. The moody spirit caught in the collective consciousness since the holiday season acceptably passed, gives way to a newfound optimism as spring slowly makes a show.

And none wait more for it than I. Spring is my favorite time of year, as much because the nerdy side of me is fascinated at the rebirth of so many once-dead species as because the annual evolution of the landscape is so incredibly beautiful, filled with my very favorite: wildflowers.

Like every Spring of my life since my teen years, a familiar tug pulls at me- a tug I find overwhelmingly persuasive year after year: a call to change, a call to renew, a call to live a little. And, like most years when Spring taunts me with these charges, I listen. And I change my hair.

Not all of my hair changes are quite as dramatic as the years I spent in technicolor- although it isn’t unusual for me to easily go from long & brunette…

…to short & blonde. And, while I find even a subtle change can make a big difference, I’ll admit, the spirited side of me likes the big changes far better. Apparently, this “need” to change my hair derived from my mother, who wore blonds, brunettes, and reds beautifully and often in her younger years.

By the time she was the age I am today, while she changed her hair frequently, these changes were not as sensational as her earlier years. And I suppose, in that, I’m following suit. After all, I’m not certain I could pull off hot pink hair today. Still, I’ll easily jump from long to short, or from blonde to brunette, and that long existing need to do something entirely new with my appearance is calling me once again.

Today, as my life moves forward during a time of great personal change, it would seem silly not to answer a call of reinvention- in spite of the fact that it is merely cosmetic. But, gotta start somewhere, right? After all, small moves can equal big change. And, as true as Spring following Winter, taking one day at a time, and putting one foot in front of the other, indeed they often do.

So small moves, Ellie. Small moves.