Nature's grand impetus.

There's a stirring. Can you feel it? An unfurling and a twitching and a nibbling and a ferreting. 

A growing and a reaching and a pushing and a rising.

From somewhere deep below - like as deep as a Florida sinkhole - up, up, up into the light.

There is joyous halcyon sun and with it there is chirping and cheeping and pecking.

There are little furry noses sniffing down in their burrows. 

A glimpse of Persephone, a piper playing at the gates of dawn, Nature's grand impetus, Dryads in the trees, multiple fluttering of heads in sprightly dance, and just in the nick of time too. 


Just when we thought it might never come back, the earth has turned, the sky has cleared, the soil has warmed, the trees have buds. 




It's spring!


Thank Christ for that. Or maybe thank Gaia, seeing as I'm an atheist.  


On a personal level, as well as a meteorological one, this is good. It means I can forget about SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder), which I was convinced I was suffering from last week. And Eldest will be pleased because I'll stop mentioning the importance of circadian rhythms.

It got so bad; I actually looked up the symptoms for SAD:

Depression. Check.


Sleep Problems. Check.




Lethargy. Check.




Over eating. Not really.




Loss of concentration. What was that last one? Oh yes, check.




Anxiety. Sometimes. Okay, check.




Loss of libido. No comment.




Social problems. What does that mean? Characterised by a wish to avoid people. Oh yes! Check.




Mood Changes. For God's sake how stupid is that!!! Oh, I see, well, yes. Check.




Sudden disappearance of symptoms with the arrival of spring? Yes! Yes! Yes!


I even started to write a list of things I'd achieved each night before I went to bed to lift my spirits. It was pathetic. 

One entry read: did washing, made phone call, cooked meal, talked to children.

But I have to say it worked. It made me feel heaps better.




Then I forgot to write it because I was busy, on Friday and Saturday and Sunday. Work took over, I went to the theatre, people came to stay, we went to the opera, we went out for lunch, more work arrived, the sun came out and now I've forgotten about SAD altogether, which I guess is the whole point.




We are animals. The earth is a living breathing thing: our home, our succor, our friend. Able to make us feel happy or sad or dead or alive. Even, for some poor sod sitting in bed minding his own business in the United States the other day, able to open its pitchy, gaping maw and swallow us whole, like something from a Roald Dahl story. 

I guess we should respect it.

Here's a link to that story about the man in Florida -
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2013/mar/01/man-disappears-sinkhole-florida

Twitter @DOESNOTDOIT

This blog now has a Facebook page imaginatively called: I Don't Know How She Doesn't Do It. Please go to the page and press 'Like' if you enjoyed reading this. It will help get the blog read/noticed/eventually maybe even make money. Thank you.