Spring 

The clocks changed this weekend, we welcomed friends to the area with a hike in the sunshine, and it’s time to crawl out of the cave*. 

‘now winging selves sing sweetly, while ghosts(there and here) of snow cringe; dazed an earth shakes sleep out of her brightening mind: now everywhere space tastes of the amazement which is hope

gone are those hugest hours of dark and cold when blood and flesh to inexistence bow (all that was doubtful’s certain, timid’s bold; old’s youthful and reluctant’s eager now)

anywhere upward somethings yearn and stir piercing a tangled wreck of wishless known: nothing is like this keen(who breathes us)air immortal with the fragrance of begin

winter is over–now(for me and you, darling!)life’s star prances the blinding blue’

~e.e.cummings 

*Photo from Sunday’s wander through the Darn Walk, Bridge of Allan. 

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