"Spring reveals nature’s secret, That death is reversible."
I'm back at my desk and ready to have a go at all of this again.
Coming out of a hazy period, and I've found my way back here. I've got plans and schemes, so this should be fun.
It's Spring here, but it's been warm all year. Some things started budding more than a month ago, and yet other trees are still bare sticks. But they're trying. It's a confusing time to try sprout and grow, I should know. It's getting green, but I'm ready for it to be greener. The closer it gets, the more I realize I need that full-on, late-spring green explosion. I can only pray we'll get a week or two of rain between now and then. The land needs it and I need it too.
I always want things to break cleanly. A distinct point from which to start, to push off from. And we manufacture them, culturally: New Year's, birthdays, Mondays. And I try to key off of them as often as I can and yet, I doubt my success rate is any better for doing that then the times I didn't.
Because things don't work like that. Winter doesn't end and the switch is flipped into Spring. Things just happen. Or they don't. Or they happen at the wrong time.
This is happening now. "How miraculous is that?" (x)
We will always be in that most dangerous, most exciting, most possible time of all: the Now. Where we never can know what shape the next moment will take. Stay tuned next for, well, let’s just find out together, shall we?
(Source)