Five Things I’m Looking Forward to Now That It’s Spring
An ode to Nora Ephron, and a list I return to when I need to warm my heart
Every time the seasons change, I think of Nora Ephron’s famous list—“What I Won’t Miss / What I Will”—from I Feel Bad About My Neck. It’s one of those simple things I turn to time and again, especially when the world feels heavy or I forget what it is, exactly, that makes me feel like myself.
So in the spirit of spring and Nora, here’s my own version—a list of the top five things I’m looking forward to now that winter’s finally loosening its grip.
1. Morning walks without five layers—and podcasts that make me laugh
There’s something wildly underrated about being able to just… leave the house. Not with gloves or a beanie, or that weird sense of panic when the wind hits your face like a personal betrayal. In spring, the mornings are softer. The air is lighter. I can walk without checking the windchill—and these days, I really need to laugh. So I cue up Amy Poehler’s Good Hang,Jen Hatmaker’s For The Love, and always, Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend or Fly on the Wall. The combination of sunshine and a well-timed punchline is better than therapy. (Almost.)
A walk in the fresh air
2. The return of eating and drinking on patios
There’s something about sitting outside with a drink in hand and the sun on your face that feels like a full-body exhale. Spring is when the patios reopen and suddenly everyone you love is available for a spontaneous catch-up. Chips and guac somehow taste better under twinkle lights. A glass of wine hits differently when there’s a breeze and no need to rush. And conversations feel lighter, truer, more alive when they unfold at a wobbly table surrounded by the low hum of strangers and the clink of glasses.
A shared pizza in beautiful weather
3. Opening the windows
There is no candle, diffuser, or overpriced linen spray that can compete with the first time you crack a window and let real, actual outside air in. It’s the olfactory equivalent of hope. Fresh air over a clean apartment? Peak main character energy. Bonus points if there’s a breeze that flutters the curtains just enough to make you believe the soundtrack to your life has finally started playing.
A spring day in my New York apartment
4. Farmers markets
There’s something deeply romantic about wandering a farmers market on a weekend morning with a canvas tote bag and absolutely no plan. I rarely buy more than a bunch of flowers, a pastry to nibble while I wander, and maybe some Palisade peaches if they’re in season. But it’s never really about the groceries. It’s about the ritual—the slow stroll, the honey samples, the person playing guitar too early in the day. It’s the act of showing up in the smallest, most ordinary way and finding joy in it. Plus, if I squint just right, it feels like I’m starring in my own episode of Gilmore Girls. And in spring, that feels borderline spiritual.
The Farmers Market in Boulder
5. Sudden rain showers
Spring doesn’t just bring sunshine—it brings surprise. The kind of rain that shows up out of nowhere, soaks the sidewalk, and disappears just as quickly. There’s something oddly comforting about it. The way everything smells cleaner after. The way it reminds you that change can be abrupt and still beautiful. That everything—even you—can begin again, even if only for a moment. It’s the season of raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, of fresh air and second chances. And maybe that’s what I love most about spring: it doesn’t ask you to have a plan. It just invites you to come back to life.
Spring has sprung!
So here’s to spring.
To market flowers and muddy shoes.
To long walks and light laughs.
And to the small, ordinary joys that remind us: we’re still blooming.