It's 72 degrees in Boston today - "unseasonably warm" as the news proclaims - and I feel the need to stop and think about that. Thoughts on climate change aside, I'm wearing a shirt with no sleeves (and a pair of pajama shorts if we are being honest here, because I've done nothing but read essays and paint a room this morning), and as I flip pages in my backyard I can feel the warmth touching the outermost layer of skin and intensifying as it soaks into my body. This sensation is just about my favorite feeling in the world (though I'm hesitant to admit I also love the helpless, out-of-my-control feel of being tossed about on a good roller coaster).
I've been thinking a great deal about sensation from the inside out, but this first brilliantly warm day is a definite outside-in sensation that's a constant in each year of my life. While I can conjure up the essence of many internal sensations after the fact, this is one of few external sensations I can replay. "Unseasonability" aside, I wait for it all winter long knowing that the first bone warming day of the year will always arrive.