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I have been walking for hours today in the burgeoning spring warmth. Sailing the sidewalks on a smile. My freckled skin finally painted by sunlight. I had almost forgotten the piercing awe it inspired in me one year ago. Has it been a whole year already?
I stop often to rest my blistered feet and look up into the trees. Starlings sit still as statues, plump on newly flowered branches...pink...white...yellow. Sun-drenched feathers make them twinkle like clumps of dewy berries. So ripe, I wish I could pluck them one-by-one. The lacy petals twirl to the ground around my feet in dazzling piles, but some cling to my hair like February snowflakes.
I start a wildcrafting apprenticeship next weekend. I first heard about the class last June and have not stopped thinking about it since. I keep catching myself in moments of silly excitement over it, like a child eyeing her giant foil wrapped Easter bunny.
Spring is here and my dormant brain is ready to flower...