Two running shoes, one left, one right, on me, instead of boots. Why wear boots when it is spring warm and the snow from the brief January cold snap is melting down and showing us the grass? The moon, pale and luminous against an all blue sky, just past half on its way to full. Two crows, black and sharp, flying one, then nothing, then the other, in the direction of the sun. They are sun worshipers, crows. I have seen them at the end of summer evenings, flying en mass to the top of the highest building in their territory to yell at the disappearing sun. When it is gone they croak away to their trees, beautiful black against the twilight sky, and roost. Perhaps they are chasing the sun away. I think they are wishing it well and a safe return.
It is returning well. Even the unenlightened are noticing the days are longer. It is Imbolc, a pagan festival falling between solstice and equinox. It is St. Brigid's Day. It is the 33 day of the year. And here and there gophers are popping out to see if they can see their shadows. As we haven't had winter much this year I wonder what they will have to say.
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