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I cannot meet the spring unmoved

The garden is bursting with spring energy, making me restless, thinking about transitions.

Words to walk with:
By Emily Dickinson
"I cannot meet the Spring unmoved --
I feel the old desire --
A Hurry with a lingering, mixed,
A Warrant to be fair --

A Competition in my sense
With something hid in Her --
And as she vanishes, Remorse
I saw no more of Her. "


  1. I do like the poetry of Emily Dickinson. I have vision of that poor last upstairs in the attic scribbling verse after verse upon scraps of paper.

    They are beautifully delicate flowers. The jpg is labelled blossom: what sort of blossom?

  2. Cherry blossom. They start off pink but open up white.

    Perhaps scribbling verse on scraps of paper is the olde worlde equivalent to blogging every day.

  3. Had not thought of that, but good point. What we do in the blogosphere seems so transient, though. I guess because we cannot see a pile accumulating and because so many other people are doing it that the currency is devalued.

    Cherry Blossom: I have never looked up close at an individual bloom. It is a delicate pastel - even down to shape if that makes sense.

    Now have to go away and find out the nuance between bloom and blossom.

  4. It's a great time of year to be alive!


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