A
perfect spring day in the first week of March. An utterly wonderful day poised
between contrariness of hot and cold creating a tremulous ceasefire between the
two. The sun unceasingly bright with a steady radiance. A cold wind cutting the
warm fabric of sunshine. Mother nature crossing the fords to bloom fully. An
idealized conception between hot and cold. A lovely liaison between father sun
and mother earth. A pulsation of procreation. The balance lying in a mystery
box teasing with tender inaccessibility. The sky bright blue shimmering with
celestial wholesomeness. Restarting of a frozen flow; a blooming up after the winters.
The air carrying courtesy, cordiality, felicity.
New
leaves emerging with easeful proficiency. Buds opening fascinatingly, artfully.
Flowers blooming as angelic personification of some cosmic urge to smile. The
butterflies will soon arrive with the message that life is all beauty and
honey. A sort of fullness flooding a rose as it maximizes its potential to
bloom and happily scatter its petals to a gust of wind—a painless dissolution.
A flower smiling rapturously with youth. The trees waving their branches with
stately majesty in the wind. A leaf fluttering tremulously.
The
squeaky falsetto of a purple sunbird. Maybe the female prodding the male with
questions. Plentiful squeals of a tailorbird. Bewildering, chit-chatty sonority
of sparrows as a flock. Velvety, marvelous smile on a maiden freshest with
love. The shambling gallop of an old dog feeling young in spirit. At the zenith
of their resolution, the trees and plants having survived the winters, now
getting rewarded with new shoots and saplings. Mother nature watching with
methodical magnanimity. Everyone looking up to the future having ridden
themselves of the lacerating recollections of the past. Enlivening.
Invigorating.
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