Spring's fervent admirer

Spring is here. The trees are green, pink, red, and purple. Flowers are blooming, the grass is a deep green again and the air is perfumed with fresh-cut grass and flowers. Life is good. …not that it ever got bad.

Still, I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that within a week’s time a friend has passed and he will no longer see another spring, nor bee, nor snow, nothing. He’s stopped being.

It’s nothing new, it happens thousands of times a day, someone or something stops being. A deer, a teacher, a fish, a child, each had it’s life, each saw the sun, felt warm and cold, felt fear and hunger, but no more. Some die quickly, some slowly. Some live to be old, some very young - they all had a life and it was theirs alone.

Maybe I’m having trouble because it’s spring. I can recall about 25 springs that included him, talking, driving around, going to the park, listening to music, laughing, bullshitting under the stars in a warm breeze. Appreciating, no, wallowing in the fact we were alive and that life is good. Life is still good - but it has one less fervent admirer.

To the right you’ll see Runner’s Favs, contemporary music by no means, but quintessential Bill.