Everyone else left the house by five-thirty this morning. Alone for a while, I stepped outside for a few minutes as the moon disappeared behind the western trees and the sun began to pink the sky. Inside the house, the cats and all kinds of mechanical hums keep me company. Outside, though, the living world engages every sense, and Easter comes toward us again, forever arriving.
It's chilly this morning, and very clear. The dogwood are in bloom. In this part of the world, all is in flower and new growth. Even for the old and long-established, it's time to grow.
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