Today the hope of spring hangs in the air. The pussy willows, like furry grey felines peeking out from the covers, have burst open and now bask in the cozy sunlight, as felines are prone to do. The lilting trickle of melt-water breaks winter’s vow of silence. The mice venture out leaving tiny toe and tail trails on the snow rather than lumpy tunnels under it. The birds sing a lively tune, lending levity to the mourning dove’s somber song. Spring is stirring, ever so slightly. God is stirring in my heart ever so slightly, as well.
Today the unbroken snow field sparkles with brilliant sunlight. It looks like the angels were making Christmas cards and accidently spilled the white glitter. Along the tree line, the sun casts long steel-blue shadows across the white field. I sit for a while, sipping my hot chocolate and admiring the view from our patio doors. As the sun climbs higher, the shadows slink slowly and quietly away. I can’t sit here all day, but I know they will only venture out again when the sun begins to sink.