April 30 | Spring Hopes Eternal

Do the seasons have thoughts of their own? Memories of winters past? Projections for falls future?

Or do they come around the corner like a college freshman late for a midterm, barely even cognizant of the world around it? Hurtling forward with nothing on the mind except a moment they wish was just a little closer to the present?

One could look at spring, with all it’s microcosms of the other seasons, and see hope, or gloom, or melancholy, or joy.

You could see the rains or the breezy days and call it a wrap, write it off with your taxes and call it all good, or all bad.

Spring, of course, seems indifferent to our feelings about it. At once gloomy and bright, at once cloudy and breezy, all things at the same time, the only thing the season seems to offer us in perpetuity is the promise that none of this will stay—

That nature must take her course, and that course is unknown, but it’s certainly something different than this.

Maybe the only real progression of the seasons are the way Fall lets us down easy from Summer to Winter?

Maybe the hope of Spring is the randomness of everything at the same time?… Read the rest