Stone Circle there will come soft rains

she's been thinking, of late. yesterday had offered a brief pseudo-spring, a touch of warmth and rain that had reminded her of the seasons to come. spring, summer, autumn, and the cycle all over again. where would she be, in one season, two? she'd know grief, loss, much of it, but in the face of the distant yet certain spring, she wondered when she'd started to let the world shove her where it may. 

she howls for @Sunny, eager to speak with him; both to assess his recovery, and reveal to someone the thoughts that have been forming, tentatively, like buds in spring. the conversation with blondine remains with her still, and in the past week she'd found herself faced with questions about family she'd never thought she'd ask. but above it all, her brother remained, his children; even her sisters had returned.