'you must believe in spring'

...so in a world of snow, of things that come and go,
where what you think you know, you cant be certain of
you must believe in spring and...

spring approaching here in uk, slowly and even so surely but one must believe that it's coming. perhaps not at the speed i could see, but with the other lives who are much more vulnerable to the harshness of winter. if the birds are back and loudly complain (just a tad) about the wet raindrops in early mornings and the little spring bulbs are out and shooting through the dark earth (though some of them baring their white butts towards the sky- the snow moved them around, what a bully!), then i have to believe in spring, though i cant see it right away.

on saturday, a rare crack of smile from the sky, high of 8'c (ridiculous! i know!) and sunshine. the two overgrown children could not help it but to pop out like toasts from the toaster, up the hills to the cracken edge (local hill).

a lazy saturday afternoon, while the earth was busy drying itself from embarrassing wetness of the winter, creatures big and small were out and being noisy. cows. sheeps. no baa lambs yet. chickens. children with sticks and throwing stones around. dogs with tails high and alert- smell! oh the wonderful smell of warmed earth and grass!

let the warmest wind of the year brush against everyone's winter-soft cheeks. let the illusive warmth of the end-of-the-winter-sun chill your toes and make you jump from stone to another, wet and slick. the earth, looking green and fresh, grins and waits till one slightly missteps, then comes the great sound of the spring mud- splat, squish, flop. noses and cheeks, red, now in turn, warming the cold air moving.

and the intoxicating smell of the spring.
head full of deliriously delicious green and blue,
sky high and hills wide,

and yesterday and today, back to a bit blistery winter. but this monkey loves grey. especially when she knows spring is on its way. less than a month left in this fantasy extended time in europe. soon i will be once again, an anonymous bird perched on the high branches of concrete tree in a big city, with head deprived of sleep, with perpetual invasion of light, light and more light. and probably a quite a good chunk left in the old world, which will be filled again, slowly. and just like spring, i have to believe that it will be filled again. one degree at a time. and it is so easy to believe in such hopes. especially when there are so many upcoming heraldry of brilliant sun once again, shining on top of slightly shivering red monkey head.

...and children face the world that's far beyond the years
above the darkest sky, the far horizons lie
with all the reasons why, you must believe in spring...

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