It has always felt darker than that, yes it is a return of the light but a hasty, garish display of natures frilly knickers, an enticement to what will be on offer.
Sit on the grass and it's still damp, look beyond the blinding white of the hedgerows and the blackthorn is bare. The innocence of spring? not to me, even the maiden is not pure. She is bare under her delicate gown and well aware of her alluring perfumes, bright mesmerising colours, growing arousal and sexual strength.
Personally I am a child of the late summer and autumn days, but before I run off for the damp security of a woodland, building to the full moon, I now lay my plans for what I want from the future and what I shall sacrifice in return.