|Green grass emerging from under the melting snow.|
|I'll have to be satisfied with these sweet-smelling |
Paperwhite Narcissus until the spring wildflowers bloom.
|Yeah, you know what that is...|
That sounds a bit ominous, but it's true. The fresh, green beauty of spring rises up from the rotten, brown ugliness of the past. It's a sublime and miraculous process, and one the poets love to ponder. I always think of the lines from "Shine, Perishing Republic" by Robinson Jeffers: "the flower fades to make fruit, the fruit rots to make earth. / Out of the mother; and through the spring exultances, ripeness and decadence; and home to the mother." And, of course, there's also the phrase I've quoted several times this year from Seamus Heaney's "The Grauballe Man" about "beauty and atrocity." Mother Earth continually creates life out of death, greenery from garbage.
|A whole history revealed...|
Every year, I see the same thing happen: senior grades drop, sometimes dramatically, during Third Quarter; then, most seniors get their act together and do better during Fourth Quarter. Sometimes, seniors have to slide quite a bit before they realize how much they're letting themselves (and others) down.
|Yet another bud on Queen Vic, just starting to open...|