The internet’s serving up photos of crocuses and daffodils. I hear tell of apple and pear blossoms, kids and lambs, and Easter egg hunts.
Around here, spring seems reluctant. There’s tell-tale mud, to be sure. But there’s still snow. And nothing is blooming.
When I look up into the trees, they look as quiet and empty as the winter that’s just passed.
But just because we can’t see something happening, doesn’t mean it isn’t.
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Spring
There’s a thaw beneath the fallen snow
And the geese don’t know which way to go
There’s a warm wind blowin’ round the bend
And the days are growin’ long again
And I will go down by the river
And wash the cold away
And gaze across the water all day
There’s a bird rehearsing on a wire
And a soft green underneath the briar
There’s a hazy ring around the moon
And the rains of spring are comin’ soon
–Cheryl Wheeler, from “Spring“, 1997