It’s one of those late spring days smack dab in the middle of March. The forecast said rain but it never came, instead sun streamed through a cloud dotted sky, warm and breezy.

I’m sort of lost in thought about life.  And about breathing.  About cycling through the seasons, each welcome upon arrival and stale at the end.  Even winter and snow.  I am tired now, of big coats and boots and salt tracked into cars and houses.

Spring is that eternally optimistic time – that life comes back after so much death and cold and dark.  It trickles in, small at first and then blooming all around in brilliant colors.

Currently, life is still muddy brown and gray.  Sad and tired and beaten up by Mother Nature.  But there is the hope of growth and life.  And that, on a day like today, is enough.

Xox, g