Everything happens so quickly between the end of March and the middle of May. Bare trees fill out, and the brown, silent earth comes completely alive. The feelings that move over me in the wake of all those changes range from exhilaration and joy to disappointment to a sense of being overwhelmed, to a sense of sadness. I wonder if what I was really waiting for was spring or if I was caught up in a different kind of longing, an obsession with the idea of rebirth, thinking that spring was a