Now ’tis spring soon

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There are no flowers. But there is grass. And there is weed, and dirt where there shouldn’t be, and the dirt which is in the compost, where it should be, needs to be turned and — oh, a worm!, carefully returned to where it belongs.

Is there happiness in the earth? There is. As long as there is happiness on earth, there is happiness in the earth. Is there a certain calm, a kind of peace, a disregard of status and power structures and this eternal comparison of the in the end unimportant attributes of importance?

Indeed. There is just the earth and you and fifty kids shouting and screaming and kicking a ball back and forth on the slopy grass behind you, somehow contributing to the calm rather than shattering it. There is just dirt. There is just grass. There is just life.

And soon there will be flowers.

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