Spring is commonly associated with newness and beginnings. New growth, new life, new warmth under a new sun. On of green things: of buds greening bare trees, of grass poking through late snows, or perhaps the greenery of gardening as one buys flats of flowers or sows vegetable seeds in the expectation of a harvest later on.
Spring is also associated with growth. It’s the time when plants race toward the heavens, or leaves burst out from reanimated branches seemingly overnight. It’s the time when you can almost feel your hair growing, or perhaps your dreams swelling in some sympathetic expansion of their own
And, importantly, spring is the season of expectations. The year may start on the first of January, a convenient fiction provided to us by the need to start it somewhere, but the expectations for the rest of the year lay dormant in the mind until spring. January first is the time to make the resolutions and the rest of winter is the time to try them out, whether tentatively or with great passion, but the setting of expectations for the year doesn’t come until the trauma of the year before has settled into uneasy memory — or, to use an outdated metaphor, expectations are not set until one stops writing the previous year on the date line of one’s checks.
-Although it often engaged with expectations in its work, Dwale tackles the subject of spring in the context of beginnings and growth infrequently. One small example of this comes from a short renga that took place on Twitter:
+Although it often engaged with expectations in its work, Dwale tackles the subject of spring in the context of beginnings and growth with less frequency. One small example of this comes from a short renga that took place on Twitter: