Spring is in the air

It is the day before spring equinox − the eve of spring.

Forest of trees − their limbs so long naked, now from a distance covered in a translucent gossamer of green − the promise of spring, of new life. The morning dew gifting silver jewellery  to spider-webs; the green grass − a glittering carpet .  Love is in the air; male songbirds competing for the attention of a female. Through this cacophony of love songs carries the sound of the first cuckoo. A woodpecker rat-tat-tatting a tree. The rusty red of the dead ferns, contrasts with emerald green of the new growth bursting forth, reaching for the sky.

The energy of the quickening infects me with its optimism − the pure longing of life for itself.

Sounds of walking, almost silent on grass, squelching on mud and crunching on gravel; I feel the different muffled textures through the soles of my boots.

The dogs are calm and happy exploring the path ahead then returning back. The  contentedness of us all walking all joined in the same moment, present, a quiet inter-species companionship. I notice that I feel pleased with how Yogui (one of our Loberos wolf-dogs) responds to the gentlest of commands.

The bubbling, splashing, gurgling of the river gentler now after the surging swollen dramas of winter. We pass cows and horses; the older keep an eye on us whilst the younger recently born are guided by an overwhelming curiosity, tinged with caution. 

Every year we experience quickening, that magic moment when the length of day, the temperature, the rainfall and the temperature all combine to send the signal, “Rejoice for you are reborn”.

This miraculous unending cycle of life.

My energy is soft and powerful, powered by a sense of immense wellbeing, gratitude and wonder. Right in this moment of connection, death and life all feel facets of the same thing. Infinite blue sky, criss-crossed with brilliant white contrails made by aeroplanes that are no more than shiny slivers of silver, so high up that I cannot hear them. For a moment my thoughts go to life inside that metal tube: are they all having breakfast? Are they chatting or looking out of the window − each one with their own story, suffering, desires, hopes and  disappointments.

Then my mind wanders to the vast interconnected web that makes flight possible: the massive web of interconnection, millions of actions, thoughts, processes and people. It is interbeing that makes that flight possible.

I offer my face to the sun. Gratitude very strong in my body as its light gently warms my face.

Flash of irritation at the ignorant fucks who have thrown out a crisp packet, fag packet and a beer-can, ignorant of anything except their own needs and wants, lost in the illusion of separation.  Only a person ignorant of connection of his place in the universe, of his connection with it all would do such a thing.

Love and connection − this is happiness. I am carrying sadness with me as my mother is dying, but happiness and sadness can coexist; they are not opposites. Happiness is having a tranquil space big enough to contain my sadness.

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