The rain has not yet arrived and it is still early for the awakening of hibernation. The world is still cold. It is such a cold season. Spring has poured into my cold blood. Hot currents are boiling. My breath is boiling. Hands holding hands, faces touching, supporting each other. Warmth is waiting for the bright and brilliant spring. Thousands of mountains are still standing majestic and thousands of rivers are still rushing. Trees are connected to trees. I hold you while the birds are calling. The little woman is so beautiful and is moving forward in anticipation of spring. . . Didn't get the most 00. . . Like it so much. . .