I'm trying to fight off anxiety, illness, and general doldrums as I look forward to spring. Spring, though it comes with the culminating project of my think tank, the Pace of Life Fair (ack! so much to do!), finals, and several important papers to write, also comes with better weather (we can hope), birdsong, better health (dependent upon the aforementioned weather), and a general feeling of rebirth and renewal. I love spring and I can't wait for it to truly arrive! I keep getting tantalizing hints of it, interspersed with ice, snow flurries, and even a blizzard.

Emily Dickinson well expresses the feel of spring:

A light exists in spring
Not present on the year
At any other period.
When March is scarcely here

A color stands abroad
On solitary hills
That science cannot overtake,
But human nature feels.

It waits upon the lawn;
It shows the furthest tree
Upon the furthest slope we know;
It almost speaks to me.

Then, as horizons step,
Or noons report away,
Without the formula of sound,
It passes, and we stay:

A quality of loss
Affecting our content,
As trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a sacrament.