Recently, a friend of mine died. I do not say "passed away", because that would be to obscure the suddenness, unexpectedness, and abruptness of the situation. Her memorial service was today; it was my first experience attending a service as an individual, and not accompanied by my family. Fortunately, I soon encountered the company of fellow friends. We have all been stricken by abruptness. My feelings at a time like this I have kept private, and will keep private except to those friends who are also grieving. I heard the stories of my friend's family members and companions, and although they made me smile, they made me cry more for a loss which becomes greater with the revelation of each person's sadness and individual heartache. I wish that I could have gotten to know my friend better, because of the uniqueness of her spirit.

http://www.kare11.com/news/article/920092/396/Bicyclist-hit-killed-by-truck-in-Dinkytown-identified

I have finally accepted that spring is here -- but I always feel a sense of separation and sadness at the end of winter. The departure of the cold of winter has a similar feeling, to me, as that of moving out of a long-held room, or the dismantling of an exhibition of art. It is very easy to appreciate warmer, spring and summer weather. It is much harder, but worthwhile, to appreciate winter's chill; the winter is a time of balance, of subtleties, of delicacy, as well as harshness. Still, the first scent of mud in the sun never fails to send some measure of exhilaration through me, not unlike that of the first biting breeze.

I anticipate the rustle of leaves.

[EDIT 4/16] No sooner did I write this then there was a 1-3 inch snowfall in Northfield, with flurries about southern MN. It was a wonderful treat.
[EDIT 4/20] It is snowing again! 

Snow and sand are the mediums of the winds. Drifts are the arts of the world.

“I warn you, if you bore me, I shall take my revenge.” —J.R.R. Tolkien