March 29, 1994

All winter I have worked for and waited for the spring. In this spring I feel the sun that promises summer, but I have never seen a spring so much like fall.

This day after the snow fell, the wind blows noisily through the tree tops, and the sun is eclipsed by clouds. First dark snow clouds that spread rain across the river, then big fluffy pillows leaving sleepy shadows on the land. The sun promises of summer, but I have never seen a spring so much like fall.

I sit is a barren landscape. Dead leaves are the carpet I walk on. There is no canopy of green above. I wait for the warmth that the sun promises, but the wind is cold and the forecast snow. Why does this spring seem so much like fall?