The sun is shining, finally. It seems out of season.
"...for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night."
Matthew Arnold, Dover Beach
Somehow that poem usually feels hopeful to me, despite its pessimistic message. Somehow I feel the light still there behind the words.