Circuitous

Spring seems to have jumped upon us rather quickly this year. In all of her vigor to bloom, she seems to have rushed Old Man Winter and chased him off rather thoroughly. But I know that Winter is far to devious to allow Spring that much leeway. He is waiting. Waiting for the right moment to jump us with another week of bitter cold. But for now, I enjoy Spring's folly. Before to long Summer will come, and the cycle continues on. And on. Like the rest of life. Beginning and ending. Continuously chasing it' tail around and around. We see change and new-ness, but in reality, everything is part of the same circular track. We just haven't the foresight to see it. We continue around, so proud of our circuitous route, oblivious of everything else around it. And occasionally someone strays of the track. But most often they come back. We rebel, thinking we are the first to do so. We conform again. Rise and fall. Like waves upon a beach. And there is nothing else.