Two-Hundred and Sixty-Four moons ago, the Hunger Moon rose in the night’s sky while Winter’s first weary yawn opened and closed. Coincidentally, the air provided for Boy Evergreen’s first breath came from this exhalation.
Soon after Boy Evergreen began to breathe, Winter fell upon a deep slumber. The sound of her snores stirred up the courage within Spring’s heart. Spring slowly crept out of her hiding place far below fallen pine needles. All of the dandelion spores broke their winter fast as Spring sweat through the pores of soil.
In a peculiar but wonderful space that followed, between Spring’s exhausted return to the porch’s rocking chair, while Summer’s orchestra still tooted squeaky warm-up notes, Boy Blackberry was born underneath the waxing Honey Moon.
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