Spring, yep.

Spring chills. The sun is shining now, but not quite warmly. I sat on my porch reading with my hair exposed earlier this morning in the hopes of returning to summer blond. I like my natural hair color, but everything is better sunny.

Spring dreams. My dreams are vague except during the spring. Then they are specific. Even in their specificity, they fail to guide.

Spring prays. Everyday I ask for God to give me something good. Some days I wonder if He understands what good means. Then I realize that I don't know what good means.

Spring rains. The soil is dark brown again and the flowers looked pleased. The earth begs me for some new seed. I don't know what to give.

Spring Aprils. I try not to think of it as the cruelest month, but once it's in your mind that way, you can't help but find all sorts of ways that it fulfills the prophesy. Maybe April can be the coolest month (as in hip not Decemberish).

Spring stays. One day you stop fearing the cold because you know it won't last. I look at my sweaters and wool skirts and realize that I will have to settle into a different wardrobe. I am wondering what I'll wear next. And I wish I could be brave like a tulip.