A gray froth one minute, then a clear and icy blue sky the next. And wind. The wind hurrying the clouds along to play tag with the sun. Wads of snow were flying sideways just then. And now? Sunshine, puddles, and last year’s leaves skimming the young green.
This is the riot of spring; the roll and tumble of one power giving way to another. The energy of earth’s awakening vibrating with an ever-widening breadth.
It is feisty. And beautiful. And raw.
I run with the wind. The now-rain wets my face, and I run. In this change, in this riot, in this wakening, in this energy, I run.
For to touch the face of nature is to touch the face of God.
Wishing you the loveliest of weekends, friends! May you embrace your spring in all its beautiful mess.
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