The Spring Mechanism. Pistons grinding the soil into energy. Verdant hydraulics building the summer

Spring is this wild machine that glides in and out, upon and through itself. A mix of bodies roiling together like the pink bodies of baby rabbits in an uncovered nest – squirming together for warmth and to hide from looming shadows above. A frustratingly rhythmless Ouroboros that feeds and grows with the rudderless mechanics.

It devours the cold blues to perpetuate the blossoming pinks and yellows of the moment, which in turn will become a feast for emergent greens.