Ice Breaking

The undertaking of a new action brings new strength.

Evenius
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What do I wake to? Another day? And what is that, numbers on a calendar page? A month? A season? A new time of life? A new life? A rebirth? Another chance to tread down the dragons and slap away the unexpected wasps.

What are the important things? My phone has stopped working, completely. It's dead. I have another one, a cheap model from the drug store. It gives me a dial tone but I don't think it rings or takes messages, There is no way to reach me now except snail mail and instant Internet. And why would someone want to reach me? Why should I be bothered by bothersome things? But what if a friend should call?

It's Spring. It's stomping time and clapping time and shouting time. It's welcoming time. It's the opening of the windows time. It's the dusting off of the Winter's forgotten pleasures time. It's listening time and breathing time. It's sunshine on your face time.

Spring is a violent time. It's the violence of the bird cracking open its house, of the bud forcing its way out of the branch, of the seed throwing off it's covers and thrusting its feet and fingers into the ground.

Spring is the noisy time. On the first full beautiful day the loud machines come out to mow, to plow, to trim, to clip, to split and to rev. The machine that has the power to drive the sap wakes up and starts pushing through the trees. The winged community starts its variety of constant conversations from its various limbs and nests.

Spring is a loving time. It's time to clean out the closet and call Good Will or The Salvation Army. It's the time to call old friends and write some letters. It's the time to think about starting a romance or paying more attention to the one you've got.

Spring is the time for hopes and wishes, You've made it through another winter, now what? Where are those plans you made? Get them out and look them over. Now's the time.

Spring is a time to be depressed. It's the time to realize that and to fight against it with joy and strength. Spring is the way-station between the struggle to survive and the growing of a new life. Spring is half way between Thanksgiving and harvest.

Spring is the time for children. It's the time for trust and the child-like delight in the act of being alive. It's the time for fertilizing your garden. It's the time to learn.

So be it. So it must be. And so it is.

DB - The Vagabond.
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