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Spring is in the air

spring is in the air




From the mist of memories...

The Oratory School. South Oxfordshire, U.K., 4th Form. 








It was raining cats and dogs that November morning.
Lorenzo aged 15 had arrived from Rome in the month of September for his first term at boarding school.
He was very bored having to re-learn Latin declensions British style.
The boy sitting at the desk next to his was playing with a rusty old spring from a bicycle saddle: Throwing it up then catching it with both hands cupped. Teacher in a loud fierce voice:
«Now just stop doing that and pay attention to the lesson or I will give you half an hour detention on Saturday !»
Outside real English weather. At that moment lightning and thunder struck (unusual in November). Really close.
«But, Sir», Lorenzo found himself shouting to overcome the roar of the pelting rain,  «You should not be so intolerant, after all Edwards (for such was the boy’s surname) is only trying to tell us that Spring is in the air».
General uproar of laughter. The Latin class of some 15 boys in shambles. Irate teacher:«Half an hour’s detention Saturday for both of you».
Well, that got Lorenzo thinking the real communicator was a surreal image.
From then on he never stopped viewing the most unlikely objects as alternative means towards dialogue.

 It is the Spring air that hits you most at the dawn of the new season.

Beyond a cherry branch you can see the sun, pale and thoughtful, while a butterfly and a spring fly through the air, suggesting
Spring and the end of winter.

The sensation of Spring is also evoked by the poem written along the spiral spring