To those who celebrate it.
Christmas has always spoken more to my pagan soul than Easter has, though I find the ideas embodied in a story of submission, punishment and resurrection intriguing. I’ve never felt Easter, but that doesn’t mean objectively I can’t see the point, especially today, when it looks sunny and bright outside but it’s colder than a mofo. This week it just turned cold and wet and awful again, and only the fact that it’s now light past 6 p.m. has kept me from crawling back into bed and staying there until it got warm.
But it is bright out, and the trees are budding despite the February temps, and the green grass is poking through. Spring’s fighting it, fighting the urge to go back to sleep, to give up, to say fuck this I’m tired. Spring’s pushing harder, and I can appreciate that kind of persistence in a holiday, so I’m off this afternoon to eat ham and steal my little brother’s marshmallow eggs.
Happy Bunny Day.