Happy spring to all you youngsters

Ahh, spring at last…♥  for two hours already, it has been spring…
 
I just stepped outside onto the back porch for a moment…just a moment, because it is very cold out yet.  But the cold is not all bad.  It maintains a certain silence.  In just another month, the raucous noise of life and hope springing eternal will be a wellspring from which the everpresent noise of the warmer months springs from…
 
But tonight I bathed my soul in the darkness and the starlit silence of a late March night. What met me in the silence of the darkened forest and  field was the sound of rushing water in the valley far below the house.  Almost a hush…not a roar.
 
There is a reality in such nights, a truth voiced by the silence… it waits for us…the dark and the silence and it is never ever very far away. We can drive it away with lights, warmth and laughter, but when all else is gone, there it remains, waiting on us…and the peace of our thoughts.
 
Clarity and focus are the working order of this night.  I could make a list, but it is, just like the everpresent noise of the warmer months. It exists and it is known… and never gets very far from my heart.  My driving force that moves me along…
 
So tonight I am neglecting the task at hand (800+ pages of fiction and counting) and I will write a few words here for those who stop by to enjoy them. Almost 5400 page views to date…please leave me a note when you stop by 🙂 we amateur authors are such a heart on our sleeves bunch…we do LOVE to know who stops by and what you think of our words…
 
My mind meanders back to a time when my heart was untried and my hide was tender…and all that was mysterious and mighty, dwealt just beyond my view and my grasp.  A time when the world was an inviting place where danger and excitement resided side by side…
 
I was standing on the edge of one world…  and waiting on the next…
 
And the stars that I could see beyond the edge of my oh so innocent world, were bigger and brighter and held a promise that I had never seen before. And the wind blew up from that great divide between those two worlds, and ruffled the hair of a girl, and then settled it back down on a woman’s shoulders.
 
The sound of the mourning doves called out, and the whiporwills, and behind me, they sounded silly and harsh, but beyond the edge, their songs were a mixture of pain and beauty, deception and truth, promise and betrayal… the clouds were puffs of haunted cotton that obscurred the moon, but the moment was fleeting. Then in the light of a spring moon, the world suddenly took on a different glow.  It was no longer rose colored, but was tinted and in some odd way, tainted by passionate daydreams that either promised or threatened to spill over into the night.
 
The sounds of spring, the sights, the warmth, the heady smell of lilacs…and green grasses swaying in a sun kissed breeze…
 
What did I know…that the fantasy that lived in my young mind, was never meant to be lived?
 
I still do not believe that. The fantasy is there…and every year when the rains come and waken the sweet earth, and the lilacs start to bud out, and the stars come out and shine…they issue a promise…that it is true, the promise holds true; fantasies really are meant to be lived, love exists as surely as the world continues to turn, and that the world is a place full of excitement and adventure. And if you will just believe, and inhale deeply the air of spring…you will feel it!
 
Young all over again for a moment, and your heart will race, and you will feel the joy, though perhaps you do not comprehend its source…
 
let the breeze ruffle your hair, and the mourning doves and whiporwills will call as ever. listen to them with your heart, and understand that it lives on…the sweetness of youth is never more than a few moments of springtime away…
 
 
okay, late, tired, bed.  lol…
 
 

About Teresa Cypher

I came into the world a creator of stories. Having been born into a litter, the 7th of 8 children in a farming family, I've spent most of my life writing (escapism) stories in my head. My daydreams, as it turns out, are actually fiction in the making. From the time I was a little girl, I was a thinker, spending any time I could find to be alone--the bastion of undisturbed thoughts,--dreaming of other worlds and of fairy-tale love. My earliest influences were Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella, Star Trek, and Star Wars. Yep... I write SFR. Science Fiction Romance. I live with my husband in a humble house in the middle of a tall stand of hardwoods, bordered by soybean and cornfields, in western Pennsylvania. Mother of three adult children, and "Grammie" to five beautiful grandchildren, I revel in family gatherings and celebrations. My husband and I care for our gardens at home--our little corner of heaven, take care of the dogs, the cats, and the chickens. We like to have a glass of wine at sunset and watch the stars come out.
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1 Response to Happy spring to all you youngsters

  1. Little Prince says:

    Hi, Willow 🙂 I have to go camping to have those sort of experiences — you have them in your back yard (literally).  You are so fortunate!  I come by to read your descriptions when I want so badly to escape my metropolitan suburbia and reconnect with nature, but can\’t.  You convey the peacefulness around you very effectively with your words.  It\’s as though your roots connect to the same knowledge and understanding of nature as that of a tree that reaches out to the seductive warmth of the sun and nurses from the earth at the same time.  A balance that causes one to have the strength and wisdom of a great oak, but the freedom and flexibility to dance with the wind.  You are a beautiful soul. 

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