There was an ocean above us, held in by a thin sac that might rupture and let down a flood at any second.
The first bout of warm spring rain caused normally respectable women to pull off their stockings and run through muddy puddles alongside their children.
The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender
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The first bout of warm spring rain caused normally respectable women to pull off their stockings and run through muddy puddles alongside their children.
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Fate. As a child, that word was often my only companion. It whispered to me from dark corners during lonely nights. It was the song of the birds in spring and the call of the wind through bare branches on a cold winter afternoon. Fate. Both my anguish and my solace. My escort and my cage.
Winter is already a lost shape, forgottenin the ground. Instead, here is Springwith all the grace of a womansmoothing out her apron.
Here, also, the future was cried aloud by the wind through the rocks, so that all those who heard would shiver, and then the liquid spring song of the thrush would make all the beauty of moonlight and sunlight blend together, making it true, so true, that happiness must come again
Spring time is a time for new adventure.
We are spontaneous when we are at our genuine best.