"... comes from some other beginning's end". Thus spake the erudite philosophers Semisonic in ye olde ballad "Closing Time".

Winter is giving way to spring here in Emerald City. Trees which for months have been devoid of leaves are beginning to sprout shoots again, as could be seen in yesterday's shot. Today's plant is also beginning to bloom with spring flowers, as we can see in the warm early morning light which itself heralds the end of the previous night.

But of course the start of one season (or day) is the end of another, which is apposite for me this week. A couple of days ago I was told that because of a system migration, my job in its current form will disappear about a year from now. (Assuming that they can pull off a migration schedule which is less "ambitious" than "suicidal".)

This doesn't necessarily mean that I'm out on the street; there's a range of possibilities (including that one), none of which bother me unduly since I can see most of them working out one way or another. But as with the plants and the seasons and the days, the start of something new means the end of something old. In this case it's a gig that on balance I've quite enjoyed over the last few years (albeit with ups and downs and a few more of the latter than the former recently), and which has been pretty good to me. (And which, I admit, I may have settled a little too comfortably into.)

But one way or another, it's time to "gather up my jacket, move it to the exits", and "go out to the places I will be from".

Just as these flowers will eventually move on, spring will give way to summer, and Sunday will pass over into Monday.