Bizonkulous

The sun's shining outside, but it's cold. My room, full of windows, is warm and sunny like a lazy summer day. I fell asleep reading William Wordsworth - Lines Written In Early Spring. February counts as early spring in the Lower Mainland. Odd… a poem I'm studying for a class, exhorting me to leave the books and get outside. Well, I didn't go outside, but in my dreams it really was a lazy summer day, and I was out running around in the wildflowers. I'll be ditching the books (so to speak) for good in less than three months, and I wish that once I do I could make a career out of lying outside drinking all of creation in.