The sun has been out for a week, and I’ve been waking up with it, getting up early, leaving early, coming home early, going to bed early. I feel whole and full in this season, and gladly let go of the gloomy days of the long rainy season.

Within the space of two or three weeks, what were bare branches are now full and lush, like they’ve always been that way. I can’t get over the sudden change in everything…a little columbine plant that was nothing but a cube of dirt with dead leaves suddenly was green and had already had flowers without my noticing. Birds I’d never seen before filling a tree behind our house, all yellow and red. Flowering bushes leaving fragrant trails on the breeze.

And that is why I haven’t been posting, or making art, or thinking about ancestors’ faint dotted lines. My creativity and introspection seem to be linked with the weather and heightened by the longing for the changing of the seasons.