And then spring crashed like a cry of joy into the woods around the Mattisburg. The snow melted. It ran in streams down from all the mountainsides and burrowed its way down to the river. And the river roared and frothed with all its eddies and swirls and sang a wild spring song, which never fell silent. [?] The long, terrible winter was over. [?] And here she was now and plunged into spring. It was so glorious all around her that she, too, was abuzz with its plentiful glory and she shrilled like a bird, loud and screaming, until she had to explain it to [her friend].
?I have to make a spring scream, or else I will burst. Listen! Don?t you hear the spring??
For a while they stood there, silently, listening to the twitter and the rustling, the roaring and the singing and the rippling of tiny streams in her wood. All the trees and all the water and all the green shrub were full of life, from everywhere at the same time the strong wild song of spring boomed.
?Here I stand and I can feel the winter trickling out of me,? Ronja said. ?Soon I will be light enough to fly!?