|Daffodils - and Sunday lunch. Can't be bad.|
Now everyone has their own ideas of when Spring starts. Some will stick rigidly to the official calendar dates which state that it starts around 21st March, and continues on to the summer solstice. I have never been that happy with that definition myself. I think if you were to conduct a straw poll of the man in the street on say, June 16th and ask him what season it was, the vast majority would say summer, even though technically it is Spring.
Others will say "Spring's in the air" on the first warm day or when they see the first daffodils in bloom. Me, well I think the easiest way is to divide the calendar into neat 3 months chunks. So Spring to me is March, April and May. So on my theory it is now Spring.
There is a beautiful song about Spring which is my song for today, it's by Saint Etienne, it's 20 years old but I listen to it all the time, once again it deals with all those heartbreaking emotions of love you know me so well for, and a link is presented here. However, this is not the best version of the song, instead if you have Spotify, I recommend the link I will post to my wall immediately after I have posted this blog, which is better.
Like the new formed buds on the flowers, I'm bursting to talk about Spring. It is, and always will be my favourite season of the year. For me, it represents new hope, new beginnings, a world born anew with fresh possibilities. The wonder of nature and pro-creation - flowers bursting with pollen, birds, bees and all of nature waking up from the long winter slumber. Not long after freezing snow, bare branches, a dead world, bursts forth this amazing wonderful display of nature.
I notice it so much more now that I am living life as I do, rather than the office based life I used to have. The effects of Spring wear off on me too. I feel optimistic, happy, just at the sight of butterfly, or a young couple in the first flushes of love walking along hand in hand.
I may be 42 but that does not mean I'm not a romantic at heart, and I'm every bit the romantic I ever was, in fact, still feel the stirring of all that teenage sap, romantic notions, fantasies as much as I ever did. Nothing wrong with that. Just because I am 42 doesn't mean I have to be dull and middle aged. In fact give me a couple of hours up there fluttering about with the butterflies and I am sure I would have a whale of a time! Though I'd need to body swap back pretty quick. Although it may be an awfully fun life up there with the birds and the bees, undoubtedly it's a short one!
|Having fun - as Buble described it.|
Do people notice these things? So easy to have our lives taken over by work, material possessions, reading the paper, watching the telly. There's so much love and passion locked up inside every one of us, we can all be like those butterflies if we want. Sadly, sometimes I feel there is so little of it in the world.
Don't get wrapped up in boring things, if you're single, go out, you might find your butterfly waiting for you. And if you're married, in a long term relationship, or whatever, don't forget that person sitting next to you once was the most amazing and wonderful thing that ever happened to you. Remember that first night you spent with them? That was your Spring time, the day love blossomed between you. Re-kindle that passion and share the joy that sharing lives can bring.
I don't know what other people are like but my memories are a treasure trove of special moments. Does everyone remember them all? I remember every girl I every slept with - every one was special in some way. Not for me the casual lifestyle - it has to mean something or it is nothing. And then there all those I kissed, danced with, talked to, laughed with.
One day Spring will come, the daffodils will bloom, and I will no longer be here. Gone, scattered to the winds, my life over. I will live on through the memories of those that loved me, but even so, one day all of them will also be gone. The waves will crash endlessly on the shore, the butterflies will still flutter but I will be a mere footnote in history. No-one will ever recall the passions I once felt.
Live and love to the full people, for tomorrow we shall be gone.
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