April reminds me

Of why I like it rough.

It really does.

I love the strange juxtaposition of sweet early spring sunshine with blunt winter wind. I love the heavy rain that tears the delicate blossoms from the branches they cling to and flings them to the still hard earth. I love the unabashed sensuality of green thrusting up from the must of last year.
Harsh, beautiful, unapologetic sensuality.

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