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wispfoxWalks in the sun that is uncertain but warm, in a wind that is sometimes biting and sometimes playful.
Rain in torrents and wildness and small droplets and mist and rain that just threatens with low-hanging clouds.
Buds on trees and birds in flight and in song and hunting for food and sticks to build their nests. It's the incongruity of pigeons with sticks in their mouths, not because they think they are dogs, but because they are birds, too.
Small flowers blooming blue and purple and white, catching the eye because there is color again in a world that was grey and white and cold.
It's weather that allows for time spent outside, even with the reminder that winter is not long gone and you might want to keep moving. It's playgrounds and swingsets and exchanging your boots for sneakers and removing plastic from your windows. It's opening your windows wide and breathing in the air that your dwelling place has missed over the long winter.
It's hearing birdsong and trying to figure out where it came from. It's feeling that soon, _soon_, it'll be warm enough to forgo sweaters and wear skirts again, and sit down in the sun and have rain that is warm enough to stay in instead of hiding from.
Spring. It is.
Rain in torrents and wildness and small droplets and mist and rain that just threatens with low-hanging clouds.
Buds on trees and birds in flight and in song and hunting for food and sticks to build their nests. It's the incongruity of pigeons with sticks in their mouths, not because they think they are dogs, but because they are birds, too.
Small flowers blooming blue and purple and white, catching the eye because there is color again in a world that was grey and white and cold.
It's weather that allows for time spent outside, even with the reminder that winter is not long gone and you might want to keep moving. It's playgrounds and swingsets and exchanging your boots for sneakers and removing plastic from your windows. It's opening your windows wide and breathing in the air that your dwelling place has missed over the long winter.
It's hearing birdsong and trying to figure out where it came from. It's feeling that soon, _soon_, it'll be warm enough to forgo sweaters and wear skirts again, and sit down in the sun and have rain that is warm enough to stay in instead of hiding from.
Spring. It is.
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no subject
Date: 2009-04-07 07:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-07 07:18 pm (UTC)Maybe you did, but you made so much that it didn't matter! :)
no subject
Date: 2009-04-07 07:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-08 01:38 am (UTC)And that we are all in your gizzard, being ground up.
Neither were popular speculations in these parts, but then, the truth ain't popular either.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-08 11:37 am (UTC)But yeah, no one likes to hear the truth. This is why entities such as myself have been persecuted by mortals over the ages. Well, the truth, plus all those babies we ate. But the truth about the deliciousness of babies - one of the greatest suppressed truths of them all!
no subject
Date: 2009-04-07 09:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-07 11:17 pm (UTC)