Whispers of Spring

There’s a day near the end of each winter where it finally becomes apparent that spring is on its way.

It’s not when all the snow has melted. It’s not when the rivers and lakes thaw their icy covers. It’s not even when the grasses and flowers begin to bloom.

There’s a day every year where the scent of spring literally fills the air. The depression of winter breaks, and the hope for warmer, brighter days renews itself.

Today is that day.

It’s warm. The birds sing an old but familiar tune. The air smells of rich, healthy soil, and each breeze brings a scent so deliciously sweet that if you close your eyes, you’re standing in a meadow of fresh wildflowers.

I spent all of my time in nature today, and I’m writing this from a park bench. The moon rises as the sun sets on either side of me. The air grows colder, but the fresh breeze does not die. The birds continue to harmonize, the squirrels continue to chatter, and the dam keeps on rushing. The snow, in its partially melted state, remains for the night.

But, spring! Spring is finally coming.

A few photos from my day:2




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