After a smattering of global warming-induced fifty-degree weather in Chicagoland January, the bitter cold days that the Midwest is known for began to creep in.

If given a choice, I’d much rather bundle up and deal with cold weather rather than sweat on a humid summer day. But this doesn’t mean I enjoy scraping ice off my car or driving twenty miles per hour in a fifty, watching cars whizz past me as I try to avoid sliding on a menacing thin layer of snow sludge.

This week has been a bit different.

Instead of shivering at the onslaught of bitter cold air that invades the warehouse whenever one of the trucks go out, I found myself enjoying the fact that someone left the garage open. The outside air was cool but not oppressive, and it carried a freshness, something I’ve been feeling as the melting snow makes way for green grass and as my drives home have been graced by dreamy orange and purple sunsets.

I’ve become more attuned to the signs of winter faltering, of the promise of spring seeping through fresh breezes and slightly longer days. I’m probably jumping the gun on this; it’s only February, and we all know how a few mild days can lead to a weekend-long blizzard or a week of below-freezing temperatures in March.

A few weeks ago, I climbed a few rungs in my Clairo fan status after I listened to all three of her studio albums. I’d already listened to her latest album, Charm, a few times, so I was no stranger to her musical prowess and undeniable ability to combine warm, funky melodies with her soft, delicate vocals.

But for whatever reason, I decided to listen to all her albums in order, and I expected to see Charm as the standout, since I had liked the album more than some of her earlier songs.

With most of my music listening, I’m not fully present. Whether I’m driving, working, or doing stuff around the house, my poor multitasking skills make it hard for me to fully immerse myself in the nuances of a song.

Clairo’s second album is the 2021 Sling, and I absolutely fell into it.

I wish I could say that the album felt like a break in the cold winter because I am a genius and came up with that analogy by myself, but the album cover greatly influenced my listening journey. The cover is a close-up photo of Clairo, who’s wearing a thick jacket and looking down at an animal (a dog, I believe?), whose paw is reaching towards her, almost cupping her face.

Behind Clairo, there’s snow on the ground, and the trees are bare. The image has a soft feel, and the bright blue sky adds a warmth to it. Maybe it’s the blue sky or the fact that there’s no snow on any of the trees, but the cover evokes that moment where winter breaks, and spring feels attainable.

This warmth is present throughout the album, present with earthy basslines and a pleasant menagerie of drums, trumpets, and flutes that remind me of how nature comes to life after the stillness of winter.

No song reminds me of the vibrance of nature more than “Amoeba.” I’ve been listening to this song for years, and the opening bassline, coupled with Clairo’s piano skills and catchy chorus, captured me instantly. Maybe it’s my brain doing word association with the word amoeba, but when I listen to this song, the image of a pond filled with lily pads spring to my mind, and the vibrant greens and colorful flowers act as the backdrop for a joyous dance party—nature bouncing to the beat of the bassline.

The next song, “Partridge” is without a doubt my favorite song. Clairo’s voice is paired with backing vocals that harmonize perfectly, and her feathery voice somehow works with the drums that add a deep richness to the piece. Towards the end of the song, Clairo sings the final line in the bridge, followed by a key change that’s marked with her vocals and a single beat. The sudden yet seamless shift has prompted several visceral reactions from me.

I could go on about the early spring imagery this album brought to mind. The upbeat guitar in “Zinnias” felt like a leap into spring, where the snow was melting and the air became richer with that earthy smell you forget about when you’re surrounded by snow. And the happy trill of the flute in “Wade” takes me back to the animated movies of my youth, where spring would immediately come to life with flowers blooming in seconds.

Throughout the album, I was taken through the beautiful shift from winter to spring, and I felt more appreciation for the beauty of that simple transformation between the seasons, the same way I felt more appreciation for Clairo’s work as a whole.

Listening to this album has not only made me appreciate the subtle changes from winter to spring. The immersive experience of listening to an album in order reminded me of how I don’t do this often enough. Since then, I’ve been trying to listen to more albums in full, from artists I’ve loved for years and artists I have never listened to before.

I haven’t fallen head over heels with every album I’ve listened to since Sling, nor have I come up with a new seasonal change to compare them to, but each new song brings new images to my mind, and that’s all I can ask for. To be taken somewhere.

Liana Hirner

Liana Hirner graduated from Calvin in 2024 with a bachelor’s in writing. She currently lives in her hometown of Aurora, Illinois and works full-time in a warehouse filled with books waiting to be sorted. Writing is her first love, followed swiftly by lattes and dark chocolate.