
Spring is approaching, it is in the smell of the air. In the last days it snowed, the snow is always beautiful for me, a cosmic beauty with perfect and all different crystals. The sounds are attenuated, a magical atmosphere reigns. But you already see the shoots of the plants. Spring is coming with its strength. It is preceded by restlessness, by the feeling of having to do something, change something, renew. Spring is the quintessence of the art of letting go and embracing what it is saying with lightness:
Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be