On the Edge

photocrati gallery

It is still awfully early in the morning for Spring. It has yet to straighten its hair, brush its teeth or even have a cup of coffee. It is up though, it is stretching and yawning and planning its day. Spring is rubbing the dust from its eyes, and dusting the winter out from its golden hair. It’s still dusty, but it is not lifeless. The shift from Winter to Spring often takes longer than my restless self wants it to. I ache for green and the smell of rain. It doesn’t take long though, to spot the signs of new life. Speckles of green are popping up on the edges of the dirt roads and the birds have sounded the alarm that it is indeed time for Spring to start its day.

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