"Oh, to be in England now that April's there
And whoever wakes in England sees, some mornning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England - now!
......That's the wise trush: he sings each song twice over
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!"
I have to tell you that these lines are the very essence of spring to me. I could be locked in a windowless cell and they would offer up the sights and sounds and scents of spring. When you take your "deep breath" that becomes your armor against the chemo's onslaught, think spring! Listen for the bird-song, touch the velvet peach blossom, catch the sweet scent of it on the breeze. Let that breeze caress your cheek. The mind is a powerful thing! Think Spring!
Hugs from one of the Troops!
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