There are more bumblebees about the North Coast this spring than I’ve seen for many years.  That’s a good omen!  And already there are butterflies flitting about me as I run. Now that’s a little rush.

Of course, the fruit trees and other flowering trees bear their flower buds first.  Even before most other trees produce their leaves.  Hey, they need that cross-pollination now in order to be fecund later on.  Leaves can wait.  Flowering trees understand that April is for screwing.

To live right in the world is to love it.  For me, Dreamland isn’t about death and demise.  It’s all about life and the resolve to embrace it.

So on a day like today, I’ll linger near the dam until sunset.  To watch the red fox ramble up from the stream, weave amidst the monuments, and scamper towards the highlands.

It is so wonderful to be alive.  And I feel like I’ve just awoken to a new age.

Just a bit ago—an hour to be exact, I was stoned lethargic in my office—driven on only by the drone of a un-firing brain. 

The drugs that the intestinal flu beasties make were doing it.  The lassitude was reinforced by an office routine especially lacking in excitement today.

Then something came over me.  I got up, got out, and took a walk in the world.

There’s something about walking in spring sunshine that  always empowers me. 

And mixing in with a downtown crowd of strangers.  Darkness in daylight.

And the gate to all mystery swung open again.