tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5005965666877496170.post-73771618442488324452008-04-18T14:42:00.007-05:002008-04-18T16:38:05.345-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6Ej7YBEOS38/SAj6-QbPazI/AAAAAAAAAlw/u7graVPzxe4/s1600-h/frog+hunt+6.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6Ej7YBEOS38/SAj6-QbPazI/AAAAAAAAAlw/u7graVPzxe4/s200/frog+hunt+6.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190674518012554034" border="0" /></a>By Winter's end, there’s a part of you that can feel like you were plucked from your dinner table and yanked by the mouth into a long struggle with some otherworldly being that grabs you with a big hand and holds you in the air, exposing you to bright lights beyond any you have ever witnessed.<span style=""> </span>But then Spring comes in with its warmth and heals that part of you in an instant.<span style=""> </span>The hand releases you back to your dinner table.<span style=""> </span>A price was paid. Time to flourish again.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-weight: bold;">Words and photo by El Pescador</span>El Pescadorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08493288515588564941noreply@blogger.com