Spring mourning

It has long been my tradition to post my favorite bit of Swinburne on the day of the vernal equinox. But this year, I was mostly offline, and didn't think of it; and even if I had, the fact that I was going to be attending a funeral the next day would've made me reluctant to post something saying “winter's rains and ruins are over” and the rest.

So if you want my traditional Spring entry this year (albeit about four days late), you'll have to refer to my entry from last year.

(That “winter's rains” bit is especially ironic given the weather in various parts of the US the past couple days. Here in Mountain View, we've had rain and gray skies (a little startling to come home to after Miami's relentless sunshine (practically relentless even at night, given how brightly lit the motel's courtyard was)), but I gather it's been much worse in various other areas. I suppose it's now spring's rains instead of winter's, but I kind of feel like spring isn't traditionally supposed to bring snow.)

(And for that matter, it's a little hard to talk about winter's ruins being over, given Christchurch (where it's going from summer into fall anyway) and Japan and Libya and all the rest. I know all those spring poems are meant to be hopeful at least as much as celebratory, but it feels a little inappropriate anyway.)

While I was looking for last year's spring entry, I came across another entry from last March, in which I quoted Wendell Berry's poem “The Country of Marriage.” That's speaking to me a little more this morning; not the specifics, but the sense that it takes courage to keep on going into the forest around us, day by day.

So as this spring (for us Northerners) or fall (for y'all Southerners) commences, I guess that's my wish for us all: the courage to keep going.

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