spring is coming…

Daffodils and narcissus, inside the house and out. Filling the rooms with cheap bunches of bright yellow and the scent of spring.

The green pushing through, lighting up the bare branches. Shots of colour on the camellia bushes and buds of white on magnolia trees. When the magnolia is in full bloom we know we’re through the worst of winter.

The days here and there when I don’t have to wear a scarf. The sun actually warms and I can think (think!) about taking off my coat.

The intoxicating smell of spring on the breeze. It smells of promise and joy. (But spring and summer are my own memento mori. Everything is more beautiful because it will die.)

Hyacinths! I almost forgot about hyacinths. Useless flowers that can’t even hold up their own head, but the most gorgeous smell. Inhale them like you’re coming back to life.

It’s impossible to talk about spring without talking about life and death – that circle, the hoop that never ends.

Hope, hope, hope. The last fluttering spirit in Pandora’s chest, the emotion that keeps us trudging through the bad days and raising our faces to the sun when the clouds depart.

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