There is something so awakening about spring, and yet something so sad about parting with winter. The white freshness and crispness is replaced with a lazy warm and subtle excitement.
But I will miss winter.
The gentle cloud like cocoon that I have been in for a few months now threatens to be opened. And although I will be released from my winter bonds, the parting of my comfort will be mourned. It is so hard not to hold on to what you love, to the beauty and pleasure of something that brings you such joy as to be in a cherished position.

To close your eyes to that and wash your hands, free the butterfly in the jar. Without certainty of ever finding and holding that butterfly again, without feeling loss of ownership.

Life is life and it is not owned, nor stored. And loving life can be like trying to clutch onto a river. Loving the water so much you spread your arms to hold onto it, not knowing that while trying to capture it, it can either carry you away or wash over you. A lesson to be sure.

And my Mother's greatest fear, as I travel the world chasing waterfalls.

SPLASH

In the attempt to capture moments, one should not forget to live.

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