Our feet stomp to the beating of her wild heart.
Dancing the moonlight. Dancing the stars.
Spinning. Whirling. Feral.
Spring Fever is burning through my veins like the heat of summer sun on my skin. I want to fling open the all the windows and doors. I want to wander the woods and breathe in the fresh air. Of course, everything here is still walking the thin line between snow, ice and mud. And it will be for awhile.
But this feeling is more than being stir crazy from winter. It runs strongly toward being stir crazy with life. I’ve been living in winter for years.