The spring equinox arrives in a cloud of pastel fragrance. Wise in her position on the wheel of the year, nature’s vernal goddess kisses your brow and puffs another sweet breeze your way. She awakens you, announces her presence, and signals that the receding momentum of the solstice is completing its final impetus.

Winter’s work is booming with creativity so that even when the precise, ordained moment arrives, it might not give way to spring right away. Wise in her position on the wheel of the year, she waits. Then, when winter finally leaves, she gently kisses your brow and off you ride, making your merry way through the silent — yet soon to be singing — paradise.