Sunday, April 22

Revolutions

Summer is coming, summer is coming.  I can feel it in the thickness of the air, in the heaviness of the sun.  I can hear it in the birds and crickets, in the motorcycles raging by, in the windows down breeze.  I can see it in the blooms, pinks and reds and yellows, popping up like happy thoughts. 

When time moves in such a rush, it's hard to get your feet on the ground.  One moment you're baking cakes for a birthday and suddenly it's been a year and you're searching for one more candle in the drawer.  I keep marking off the degrees of growth spurts, the blank spaces that mark inches between, and I'm amazed.  I'm amazed.

Sometimes in March I can't help but feel sad.  It's like the winter hasn't really left yet and one more snowstorm is looming over my shoulder.  This feelings lasts until April, coloring all over my birthday and leaving tiny scars.  But, then, it's almost May.  And things begin to lift - sunshine, flower buds, tree leaves and spirits.  I can't help but wonder at the glory that is life, at the blue skies and tall trees and weeds that won't stop growing.  I can't help but look around and see goodness, beauty, and progress.  Pretty soon May will be over, June will fade into scorching July and I'll wish for fall.  But right now the heat sure sounds good.

Summer is coming.

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