I woke up to spring snow buds and shoots and twigs collecting waterlogged flakes the plants, they must be so chilly yet still they grow even on moody days like today like me, walking along a creek path through it snow collecting on my hair, I feel the cold, see the youthful green as I turn and, the same wet flakes now slap my skin on my return melting, reminding of fundamental, physical change this season cold and wet, or warm and sunny either way, it’s verdant, through and through, and new, and growth begets change
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