As the air begins to smell sweet with apple and cherry blossom, the ground freshly turned as hopeful gardeners get ready to plant, the dawn chorus of birds getting me up earlier and earlier every morning, I am beginning to feel a tiniest bit of warmth on my shoulders, and I begin to feel restless.

Much like the March Hare, who is said to go mad every spring, capering about, dancing madly, (he’s actually trying to attract the attention of a mate) I feel the need to get out and stretch, bend and run through the mud. [Read more…]