Now the Green Blade Riseth
1. Now the green blade riseth, from the buried grain, Wheat that in dark earth many days has lain; Love lives again, that with the dead has been: Love is come again like wheat that springeth green. ("Now the Green Blade Riseth," lyrics by John Macleod Campbell Crum, tune Noel Nouvelet [French traditional carol]) I noticed the breeze tonight. It was blustery--it played havoc with the Easter fire, making it hard to keep things lit. But what I noticed most was that it was a spring breeze. It certainly wasn't warm, but it also wasn't cold, either. It was cool and refreshing, but more importantly it carried with it the promise of something new. You could feel, in a strange and inchoate but nevertheless real way, that warmer days were actually, truly on the way. It was as if the breeze was an omen, "I'm not all that, but I bring confirmation of what is to come." I understand completely why most human cultures once thought of the seasons as...