THE SPRING TALES

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When the rhythm of the gears of spring goes into motion so that days will be mellower and easier to bear, then people start dressing in fewer layers, shirts appear, lighter clothes, while scarfs and gloves are soon forgotten. On public transport the instinct is for the window, to open it, to let air in. And that’s where the deception lasts the longest. With a congregation of happy folks assembling at bus stops and squeezing in on train platforms, the looks start to wander/wonder who started coughing or sneezing or blaming this constant change of weather – suddenly those funny idiots who’ve kept their scarfs are proclaimed judicious and those who know better, after all it’s every year the same. Nature, blossoming in fantastically green buds and multicoloured flowers, watches on, while Zephyr blows, approaching slowly from far away.

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THE SPRING TALES

When the rhythm of the gears of spring goes into motion so that days will be mellower and easier to bear, then people start dressing in fewer layers and shirts appear in lieu of coats, and scarfs and gloves are soon forgotten. And people also more decidedly go for the window on public transport to open it and let air in. And the deception always lasts the longest on public transport. “S**t! This cold wind…” “’t was sunny like hell yesterday!” And with a congregation of happy folks assembling at bus stops and squeezing in on train platforms, the looks start to wander/wonder who started coughing or sneezing or blaming this constant change of weather, suddenly those funny idiots who kept their scarfs are heralded as judicious and not shortsighted, after all it’s “every year the same.” Nature, blossoming in fantastically green buds and multicolored flowers, watches on, while Zephyr blows, approaching slowly from far away.