The time is right

It's only August 9 but leaves are falling.  Tonight's low will be in the comfortable 50s.  My school's first home football game is two weeks away.  And so the cycle continues and the world is set upright once again.  Now this is not the way I would handle things.  No, if I had the power, I'd do things a little differently.   Summertime would be the only time, and sunny would be the only weather available.  There would be no snow, no cold, and only warm showers to make the flowers grow.  Pools would be open year round and stores would only sell pastel shorts and sun dresses.  There would be no brown or grey--and no wool, for that matter.  Occasional fluffy white clouds would shade the sun and light showers would water the flowers.  Cities would never budget for snow removal and city playgrounds and pools would never close.  It's easy to imagine such a world, isn't it?  Now, just as I am turning over on the chaise to tan the backs of my legs, my mind travels back to the first pleasant days last spring.  I see again the first redbuds as I drive along the road from school one March day, so breathtaking that I named it Redbud Lane for its thousands of voluntary blossoms.  I recall the first brave crocus, mindful that one brief burst of color is all they were made for.  Red and yellow tulips tipping their heads in fierce March wind...anyway.  Green lawns and meadows that were brown just days before, voluptuous and sensual, inviting lovers to their soft beds.  Like a great awakening, the spring is here and will live until she dies to summer.  Then summer will die to winter, and spring will begin the cycle all over again.  I'm cycling too, these days, and there seems to be a great awakening within me.  Having lived inside a dark place for far too long, I am like the first crocus, bravely sprouting out of the snow.  Though it is both frightening and joyful to be in this place, it feels right.  Maybe, just maybe...the time is right.