The secret of life is to live it. There is nothing stopping you from doing so except yourself. I'm overwhelmed by the beauty of promised renewal. Greens and reds and yellows replace the stark monochrome of the last six months. The air is fresh, almost ripe with the richness of earth and rain.
Winds blow with awesome strength, and cast dead branches down to the ground.
Fat and cold raindrops fall into the large puddles that the soil can't gulp down fast enough. There is a world of dreams that exists just beyond my reach. Fragments of hope drift slowly down to me from a sky full of infinite possibility. Most of them pass me by, most of them fall away to whatever dark place dreams settle into. Once in a very long while, I manage to snatch one as it flutters past - and I wake with a small memory of that world so far away from what is real.