Raindrops on roses

Spring represents a new beginning. What better season to follow one so depressing? No wonder the ancients placed such emphasis on spring. If they lived through the winter, they indeed had reason to thank the gods and celebrate.

Though spring here means mostly days of flying dirt and allergies, some days near perfection. I hope I can remember to savor each one to the fullest. On those days, rejuvenation is palpable. I need a dose of sunshine. The rays heal me inside and out.

Nature's music calms like no other. Birds, bugs, a slight breeze combing the treetops. Rain gently coaxing the early bloomers from the ground. Nature shares its best this time of year.

* * *

Yesterday I cleaned another closet. This time I tackled the one in the bedroom.

Of the clothes in the closet, I no longer can wear three-fourths. My weight loss decimated my wardrobe. Some of the clothes I pulled from the closet showed their lack of use with dusty stripes where they were folded over the hanger.

Dressy dresses, business clothes gone. Now stacks of clothes line the bedroom wall waiting for disposal -- some to the trash, some to a friend, some to a women's shelter.

Slowly I am making my way through the burden of stuff. I actually feel the weight lifting. Why do we wait until stuff suffocates us to do something about it?

Sing it, George!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvgN5gCuLac

* * *

Need to visit the vampire, but probably will procrastinate a bit more. Don't really want to go out today, either.

* * *

I still miss someone.

Later.