I feel the spring, though there is no reason for it: there will be five inches of snow tomorrow, and more of it on Wednesday. I feel it in the ground, the trees, the life around me. Straining upward, reaching for the longer days and the warmer nights.
He is nearer, in a way I find difficult to describe, but I feel it in the same way I feel the land around me. Awake and reaching upward, uncovering the sun from its bank of slate grey cloth, inviting it to caress the land again.
And it does.
And in response, the sap ceases its sluggish repose, and the bulbs in the ground stir themselves, and the animals will soon dream themselves awake.