Something very melancholy has set into my bones. I feel ... like crying for something I lost. Only, I don't know what it is I am crying for.

So ... some thoughts of the day, or weekend, or wherever they came from:

I had promised myself several years back to always notice the first budding leaves of spring. I missed that this year, and bright yellow-green leaves are sprouting off of rain-slicked branches on trees all over the place. In my yard, snowflake-white flowers drift to the ground when the wind stirs and upsets them from their perch upon the trees. And a terminally grey sky looks delicious somehow, against the new green leaves that I forgot to watch open.

But it's all okay, because I know where I am going, I simply haven't made it there yet. But I've a map -- so I am better than I was before. And spring, though it sprung without my noticing, seems to be waiting for me to catch up.

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