I feel like a giant boulder sitting on the razor's edge of a majestic mountain. I'm teetering back and forth, rocking ever so gently in the mild breeze. There's a feeling of anticipation in the crisp, spring air. Innocent buds struggle to break through the hardness of long-dead branches, signalling the dawning of a new cycle of activity. Birds float lightly atop currents of sky, trilling merrily, bestowing it with the colourful melody of their song.
The air is ripe with potential. So many seeds have been planted, and I am full. The slightest shift sends me flying down the side of the mountain, slowly at first, bruised by rocks, bushes and trees along the way. But momentum gathers and soon I am sailing gleefully into the great unknown, propelled forward by mysterious celestial forces.
Am I ready?