I hate the winter. Yea, I’m a lifelong Michigander, sure. But I still have absolutely no love for any kind of cold, snow, ice, or the inevitable mix of the three. So, a few days ago, some Challenge Detroiters excitedly took to our Group Chat to exclaim “ALERT: Three days of Sun in a row!”. I quietly got my hopes up, hoping and waiting for the inevitable.

Today, the snow started to thaw.

I walked outside with my dog, keenly aware of individual blades of grass poking through the snowmelt – shades of green and brown tentatively awakening as the sun coaxed life into the ground – the trees, the birds, the earth. Ears perked, my dog could sense the change in the air as he stood still – sniffing the breeze brought on by the onset of spring.

As I turned my corner, the harsh whistle of a train passing overhead slammed through the air – its roar juxtaposed against the previous calm, vibrations reverberating and rattling. My dog cowers for a moment as the rocks beneath his feet seem on the verge of shooting into the air from the pressure. Then, again – silence, even more profound as the ringing in my ears began to dissipate.

I’ve never been much of a city guy. In fact, growing up, I always imagined myself living somewhere out west in the mountains- not necessarily remote, but not exactly one of the largest metro cities in the US either. As I discover new corners of Detroit, I’m shaken by the dirtiness – the trash littering the street. Dog shit from negligent owners on the occasional street corner. Split, cracked concrete charting out my every destination, road or path. Sometimes, I look at a google map and can’t help but think of the framework of roads crisscrossing one another as a sort of urban prison – each line a box that slowly but surely collapses towards me. Despite Detroit’s sheer amount of mileage and sprawl, I can’t help but feel claustrophobic.

It’s just the beginning of February, so odds are, this thaw is a fake out – a cruel product of global warming and the Michigan weather gods playing a game of cat and mouse. I’ll probably wake up next week to 20 degree weather and a blizzard. The dog will probably go back to spending his days curled up by the heater in my apartment, eagerly awaiting the true spring thaw out just like me. But, sometimes all you need is a reminder – a glimpse of the future – to keep you moving forward, working, or, in the case of Detroit, hustling just a little bit harder.

Walking down my block, I took a turn down a street I haven’t explored yet. I’m confident in the general safety of the area, so I’m not too concerned when I encounter houses in various levels of disrepair – more fascinated. Bu it’s not the urban dilapidation fascination that gets me a la TIME’s spread on Grand Central Station from a few years ago. No, it’s more so wonder at what I’ve realized is some newfound perspective. My first thought? “What would it be like if there was a farm here? A homeless shelter? A park? I look at this little street of broken down, boarded up homes and can’t help but feel a swelling sense of — of — pride? Hope? Or perhaps a subtle sense of that Detroit spirit I hear so much about – an undeniable sense of creativity, possibility, and belonging that only just begun taking shape.