April is the cruelest month (with apologies to TS Eliot)
These days should be all growth, hope and colour, but the number of grey hours we've had have made everything feel monochrome, including my mood. I know, I know...summer's coming, warm days around the corner... any yet...
So this is why my monthly post is later than usual. I figure nobody's thrilled to read dreary thoughts, but I'm trying to maintain my schedule. I try to remember that all will evolve.
I'm hoping that sunny skies will appear soon and things will turn around. I try to remember: the flowers love the rain, the breezes hold more warmth than bitterness, and the skies and fields will harbour new creatures.
Counterpoint - growing hopeful
The sun, even living behind the clouds, bides its time.
Vegetation waits under cold layers until the air is warm all around.
Buds push out of limbs, wanting to explode into a crawling chaos of colour.
Water rushes down rivers, creeks, ditches. Bird motion fills the skies with cacophony.
New books are released and book festivals re-emerge from computer bytes.
Spring is joyous! Besides, summer is coming, a hopeful future.
I'm looking forward to summer.