Friday, March 16, 2007

up the little hill

The other day, up the little hill just before where I live, I could see the horizon again. I could smell the sea, and the wind was mild.

When you feel memories bubbling up, so old you probably didn't even exist when they were created,

when the warmth of the sun on your face wakes you up in the morning,

it's spring for sure.

A song that smells just as fresh and clean as spring-time:

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