This early morning the welcomed rain continues to fall as the sky edges from black to gray. The trees through the window are no longer lacy branching silhouettes but have nearly fully leafed out in the past week. I swear it was just one week. I wanted it to be slower, but there was no holding back.
This spring feels like a young man who is so thrilled by the beauty of his lover – so utterly taken with the flesh and touch of her, that he cannot contain himself – cannot be measured in his response. Despite all the books he’s read and desperately recalling the batting averages of his boyhood baseball heros, he comes on contact. Almost immediately and way too soon for anyone’s liking.
But uncontained exuberance is also perfect timing. The issue now is simply how to continue to enter into the full and sticky mess of spring. I recommend to my imaginary friend the we simply continue to appreciate what we love.
It’s not really over.
It’s just beginning.