These days when I lay in bed looking out of the window, the branch that the little bird lands on to shake off the water from his bath is dotted in tiny leaves. There are seeds in the ground in the garden, the first tulip bloom has burst, and the days of wood stove lighting are long past.
The weekend brought tornadoes: music tornadoes and flea market tornadoes and amazing concert tornadoes. It’s the perfect time of year for thinking and walking, headphones in their place. I wish that music was always free, that all the musician money was in concerts. After Metallica murdered Napster I didn’t bother relearning how to download (free) music.
I have been daydreaming, and as I do, the spring cleaning just sort of takes care of itself. I patch up holes with a borrowed sewing machine and as I sweep out the last layer of dust the setting sun shines in through the picture window. In the middle of a sentence the book falls to the floor. I dream of a library that is a river, capable of quenching my thirst.
What is your soundtrack for spring?
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