May. But in my soul it's still winter. I look out the window, and it seems to me that time has slowed down. The clouds have covered the sky tightly, the wind is knocking on the glass, and nature seems to be holding its breath. Just like us - waiting for warmth. Waiting for change. In Ukraine, spring has always been special - with the smell of bird cherry, with the green light of foliage, with loving glances on the benches. But this year everything is somehow different. As if it is late... or afraid. Or maybe this is a reminder that spring needs to be created by ourselves? In words. In care. In kind messages. In "How is your day?" and "I miss you."