Spring Is In The Hair

After getting brushed some more by Rarity in her clean room, also known as her kitchen, I collected a picnic blanket and a few books and I went out to get some sun in the eastern meadow. I found a quiet spot, far from where a small herd of foals were frolicking and rolling in the dust. They have spring molt off from school. Teaching class is not easy when everypony, including the teacher, is scratching all the time and leaving floating wisps of hair everywhere. The birds are having a field day chasing down the eddies of hair clinging to fences and bushes and using our winter coats to line their nests.