A warm wind is brewing, The traveling force of green pastures, flowers, and the sweetly, over-powering smell of honeysuckle is rushing to meet us. A brighter sun is traveling. A cooler, refreshing rain will cover us, blanket the ground, but in pollen. Windows will open, sleeves will get shorter, and hopes will soar. The Earth will start to heal, to repair the anguish of a raging Winter. And, in turn, our hearts will heal. Our souls will start an eruption of creativity, the type of thinking and loving only done when Spring comes. It will sweep us away like the floods of a thousand rivers. We will live. Glimpses of hummingbirds will teach us the meaning of a companion. The rebirth of a lost vibrant color will teach us restoration. We will live, Spring will give us no option. the trees will grow, the sky will return turquoise. We will live and we will be happy. It's brewing.