These the weeks of leaf spawn
every branch, every tree, bud burgeoning forth, stickily, unfurling into a majesty of leaf and blossom
something of gossamer, a slither, a shimmer, each bush, coming into the pomp of full summer regalia
yesterday in surrey, midst the sunshine, the hillside awash with the blowsy froth spray of white blossoms
a tumult upon us! tho long the clandestine growth, a surreptitious summoning
each branch, so recently a brittle looking stick, dowdy within its surround of mud puddle, now, pulsing with lurid colour and vibrancy
the tweetle twerp of bird song!… rapture in miniature… the local, the particular… this is mine… yes! i am here!
whatever the creak of bone, the reluctance of limb, so too, this season always makes my heart sing
ha! i write the same thing every time, as does the spring… making, imagining, the same different same… its rhythmic, insistent beauty
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….. classic portmanteau post…. i finally turned the clock in the car forward… yes, as well you might have noticed, the seasons have changed
and heres Finns brief vid of ping pong… impressive he filmed anything one handed… just a genteel warm up, but such a reassuring sound the plunkety plonk… and i rather enjoyed the finale of his failed lunge and groan!