It is remarkable, I find, that one's attitude improves so remarkably with spring. I insist that this (spring) is a joy that the benighted denizens of more salubrious climates will never truly experience. What, after all, is the real difference between the mid 50s of a SoCal winter and the mid 60s to low 70s of a SoCal summer? Merely a difference in degree, not a difference in kind. It takes the real purgatorio of a New England winter to be able to truly appreciate the return of Robin Redbreast, herald of seasonal change. Though, more than vegetable budding and warm, zephyrus breezes, spring is the "deepest freshness deep down things" returning (apologies to G.M. Hopkins, the finest sonnet-writer in English) and reminding us all that life is indomitable, unquenchable, and back!
(That, and the irrepressible pulchritude of nubile young women, changed back into their pleasing spring atire from winter drab. Like the ptarmigan...)
I know, I just wanted to say ptarmigan. In any case, this is a light post, a little sorbet after a hefty meal of meat and potatoes. Sadly, I can't blog at impressive length every night, as much as I'd like to. In any case, hope that all's well with everyone, out there in bloggerland. Enjoy the weather! (Except for you California kids, because you'd just take it for granted anyway.)
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