Please come, Lady Spring. Bring crisp white clouds and squishy brown mud, pungent smells, gentle winds ruffling my black fur; swell the streams and wake the wild ones from their long sleep. Oh, please hurry and come.
I am dreamimg of grass river banks in the sunshine; of bluebells and stitchwort and pink campion; of tender young bunnies that I...umm, will not chase. And lambs. And I won't chase them either.
I am dreaming of warmth, and of doors standing open. Of roaming from house to garden to cabin to studio and back again, when I please. Of lounging near the front gate and bar- ....umm, not barking at all who pass by.
Please come, Lady Spring, and bring Summertime with you. We didn't see much of her last year -- perhaps she's forgottten the way to our hill. So please bring her along, with her sweet peas and foxgloves, her salt sea winds and her cool woodland shade. But if Summer can't come yet, please come by yourself, and I'll keep you good company here.
Winter was fun, but he's outstayed his welcome, sitting soused by the fire and refusing to budge. Our wood stocks are low, our spirits need thawing, my thick winter coat has now started to shed. Please come roust him out, send him back to the northlands. Please come just as quick as you can.
I'll show you my hillside, my best spots, my secrets. You can sleep in my dog bed and share all my treats. Your favorite flowers are almost in bloom now, the birds of the woods are preparing new songs, and my People have set you a place at the table. We're ready. I'm ready.