Spring

The first day of Spring, up here: thunderstorms, the threat of low-level radiation, snow on the ground, and song birds. It feels like a Big Spring; the kind that grabs you and sits you down on the snow-covered moss, shakes you up a bit and then jumps inside you, filling your body with love 'til you burst at the seams. A big love. A bad love. A love edged with death and sorrow, floods and moon. A kind of wary ecstasy, naked and frostbitten, blatant, what it is without apology.

I think I'm going to like this one.