After the Rain

I come to the little woods today, and it is fresh, alive! The ivy, which only yesterday looked so tired from pushing against winter's hand, is gleaming a deep emerald. Like satin, it shines.

And I think it is like a ballroom floor, unruly but absolutely stunning in its texture. Shall we, my Love, shall we dance across the leaves, hand in hand? Across the leaves you have drenched... beneath a million crystal droplets hanging from the pine?

Come, let us dance.