Just when we thought Mother Nature was ready to cue Spring, Winter was called back on stage for an encore. And so we sit anxiously squirming in our seats, politely acknowledging Winter one more time and trying to mask our anticipation and impatience for the next act.
And Spring? well Spring is waiting in the wings this year. Waiting, poised and ready to burst on stage. Her overture has begun with bird song and lengthening light and the sweetness of the air. Soon. Very soon, the dance of Spring will begin. The Snowdrops are blooming in the garden and the Cornus mas buds are swelling, pushing at the very container that protected them all winter. Small gestures, yes, but reliable signs that I savor each year.
“Spring is on the way. Listen, can you hear it? Spring’s sweet cantata. The strains of grass pushing through the snow. The song of buds swelling on the vine. The tender timpani of a baby robin’s heart. Spring.” Diane Frolov and Andrew Schneide
“Spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush.” Doug Larson