As day lengthens to meet the shrinking night, we catch up to the outer limit of Groundhog Day's prediction. All the signs of spring are here: chirping birds; squirrelly squirrels; brown, dead grass; mud everywhere; the emergence of roadkill; and, the smells of wet dog and manure filling the crisp air.
I know I have a tendency to see the negative in things (a Myers-Briggs "thinker"/ a True Colour "green"/ an Enneagrammic "5") but I'm not off base when I say the delightful sunny days with green grass, blooming flowers, and butterflies are still a ways away.
Just like life - we have to get through the mud and guck in order to enjoy the sunny pastorale that is rural southwestern Ontario. Although the smell of manure never does seem to go away; it just seems to hang in the background all the time. Happy Spring.
I know I have a tendency to see the negative in things (a Myers-Briggs "thinker"/ a True Colour "green"/ an Enneagrammic "5") but I'm not off base when I say the delightful sunny days with green grass, blooming flowers, and butterflies are still a ways away.
Just like life - we have to get through the mud and guck in order to enjoy the sunny pastorale that is rural southwestern Ontario. Although the smell of manure never does seem to go away; it just seems to hang in the background all the time. Happy Spring.
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