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...it was a warm overcast day in spring when she emerged at the end of the road where the pasture met the woods. She had been eating garlic mustard, violets, spring beauty bulbs, and fiddleheads. The rags she wore were colored with the blood of the Earth. There was a wild look in her eyes as if every moment was more unbearably beautiful and daft than the last. At that point I wondered what it all meant as she rambled up the old gray gravel road, but I realized it didn't really matter when the unstoppable radiation of life burst forth from the clouds in the form of our sun's rays. We may have both taken a deep breath at the very moment a trout lily opened, a chickadee sang, and a maple bud broke open to unleash another seasonal whirl of vitality...