Prompt: Spring begins its infancy in early February

So embarrassing...

Spring begins its infancy in early February. This is a comforting thought to those of us who winter badly. To restate the obvious, the coming of light and warmth after the depths of cold and darkness is enough to quicken one's pulse. This winter has been particularly bleak for reasons unknown. Despite the fact that droughts appear to have been somewhat quenched, I don't feel particularly fecund form all the downpours. That's a euphemism for writer's block or any other type of creative impulse. It's not that I don't have the desire to make this or fabricate that. Quite the contrary; I do, in droves. It's just that they're all in my mind, never exactly coming to fruition. I feel like I'm in a perpetual state of "observation mode", a way of appreciating the world I used to encourage my son to practice when he was little. Now I find myself there more often than I care to be. I feel like I'm witness to so much that baffles me, that outrages or saddens or frustrates. Most recently, I've been thinking we are all an audience to a world stage where the feature is an epic of good vs. evil. It's as if we are all the proverbial deer caught in the headlights as a blinding battle unfolds before us and we stare at the spectacle and wait, we are wondering who will win and who will end up as road kill. Yes, this is a terrible metaphor, but I don't believe I'm the only one who is getting caught up in this zeitgeist. We are all sitting in our metaphorical tract houses on our well-appointed cul-de-sacs watching our electronic rectangular windows on the world as clowns dressed as gladiators, red-faced, scream obscenities at each other in the name of freedom.