March leaps in with an explosion of colours, and April scorches in close behind.
Blazing bright, samba hot.
Fiery reds, vibrant oranges, sizzling pinks, cheery yellows... throbbingly, pulsatingly ALIVE !
Pastels shy into the background, whites struggle to make themselves heard.
Along the seething roads of Mumbai, trees cloak themselves in summer hues . Fire outside, cool shade within ; was there ever a more welcome paradox?
The Pink Cassia blushes in bloom, more apricot than pink. And high among its feathery foliage, the drongo serenades his sweetheart. Singing ever louder and more joyful ... as if the spirit of Summer has infused him with all her passion.
The tree joins in the fun and scatters flowers at her feet, a floral carpet to rival that of any queen.
In my garden, juicy mulberries bend down, begging to be plucked. Sink your teeth into them and let their tart juice drizzle in, a blood-red invitation to snap awake .
Awake; who could not? When showers of gold spread their glory as far as the eye can guess, when every hue is a paean to Life ... thrilling, exhilirating, rejuvenating!
If this is the simmering month of March, can the sizzle and fury of April be far behind?