Dormancy: The Precondition of Spring
In the mornings before work I walk through a large city park for coffee and some quiet reading time. This year I had been carrying around D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover as spring was burgeoning. Spring warmth is such an ephemeral thing, where does it come from? Cold rain falls from the sky, the ground is still frozen, and yet this warm little breath is newly present. It was in this air that I found myself asking what the novel meant.
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