Hushed Willows it's just be-bopulation

Truthfully, he was pretty sure the thought would be wasted on this man. He didn't seem keen on introspection right then — but he was the one who'd invited himself into Dusty Rose's company, and not the other way around. So he was not shy about sharing what'd been on his mind.

"It happens so fast," he said, looking up at the budding canopy. "One minute everything's all white, and then it's not. Overnight, sometimes. And all the trails you walked through the snow are suddenly overgrown. You walk 'em again but the grass grows so fast. The nights are getting shorter, too. You look up at the stars but it always looks like twilight, one or the other. It turns a place you thought you knew into somethin' else."

Not that it was unwelcome, necessarily. But —

"It wasn't like that — the place where I came up." The rains, though, had had a similar way of resetting the landscape. It was hardly much of a change in such a homogenous landscape, but it was a cleansing all the same. "But I suppose there's all different sorts of ephemera to bitch about," he conceded, as if Tybalt had pointed this out to him.