Spring

Tomorrow is the first day of spring. This meant more to me when I lived in Boston and St. Louis, when it marked the departure of the long and now tedious winter. This will be a special spring for me. The loss of winter will be softened by the birds and the buds and seeing and appreciating the cycle and circle of life, of which death holds its necessary role.

Some readings on the season:

Spring has spring.
The grass has ris.
I wonder where
The birdies is.

Mary Darby Robinson was a bit wordier.

As was Anna Leticia Barbauld


And let's not forget Mel Brooks