Photo Source: Unsplash The Death of Narcissus   Look, the spring has come in this florid, fertile valley! Hear the morning’s song recited from budding, reaching boughs by flitting mouthpieces of creation; feel the cool fog wet your lashes and dissipate into the warmth of blue-gold day; breathe in a fragrance once known, yet altogether new, of growth and fecundity, of vitality and promise—of blossoming life; wet your tongue with a draft of the harvest past, pay homage to the vines now bare and...