The first line is mine, the rest was generated by InferKit.
Spring is green, but not too green.
It’s blooming, but I can’t take off for a couple weeks.
Most of the flowers are past their prime and going to seed.
(There’s a shock, because I am not a flower person.)
My tulips are gone and the daffodils have started to fade.
I don’t mind.
I love the colors of spring, which I’ve said several times, but it’s too early for orange and red and purple.
And there is no smell.
It’s the smell that makes me sigh in love.
I spent a large part of my childhood in the Louisiana woods.
It was the kind of place where every moment of every day was set aside for family.
It was the kind of place where going to bed meant rolling up your pillow case and taking a bubble bath.
I loved it there.
On hot summer nights I would lie out in my daddy’s old fishing chair in the middle of the front yard watching the birds do their mating dance.
I spent many days watching the hawks soar and the squirrels jump and scurry across the roofs.
The whole world there was full of life.
In my head I’ve always known spring is the time when God’s blood washes the earth, making it clean and fresh and new.
But I guess this year I didn’t really have to think about it.
It just happened.
I walked through every room in the house, picking up stray pieces of paper.
It was the kind of place where my favorite things were people.
As much as I loved the people of Louisiana, I found myself missing the people of Georgia.
There were two ladies who lived down the street.
The one family was from Atlanta and she and I were inseperable.
I could see her every morning as I went to school.
We would sit on her front porch for the better part of the day.
At night, when I went to bed, she would ring the doorbell and ask me to come to bed.
I knew what she wanted, but, of course, I would not do it.
I would go to my room and pretend that she wasn’t there.
The other lady was my friend’s mother.
She would come over every afternoon to pick my friend up for the afternoon.
She would buy my friend popcorn, who – knows – what – else, and spend time with my friend.
She was gone by the time I had to go to school in the morning.