I will go to T.S. Eliot again ...
April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilac out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
from the Waste Land
Ouch, right?! This year we've been experiencing the warmest end of winter that I've ever known or can recall. Last night I dreamily looked at warm, snugly pj's thinking that I would love to cozy up, tuck in, and get a good winter's night sleep. Instead, I went to cotton, threw off the covers, opened the window wide, and wondered if I was ever going to drift off ... and where is that damn fan.
Yesterday brought rain.
I have been struggling in the last week to adapt to the sudden shift of season. I'm used to a long endured no-man's land volatility that bursts into summer in June. Not even April yet, and I feel the cruelty of it all as I pull myself up out of the drowse that is winter to face life.
Yesterday brought rain.
I turn my face up to the sun before the dark clouds cover it, and I feel it. I wriggle my toes, stretch my back like a cat who has uncoiled from a long nap, and feel ... desire for the day. My petals pull out of the seed, fan out, and a photosynthetic pulse puts a smile on my face.
Yesterday brought rain. And Spring.
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