Spring is here

The air is still cold, yet I can hear the whispers of spring. In the dim light of early morning, the once-frozen water begins to thaw, only to form a delicate layer of ice again—thin, fragile, and breaking apart with a soft, crisp sound.

The daffodil bulbs I buried before winter have not all fallen prey to the squirrels. Tiny green shoots have begun to emerge from the earth.

Spring is here.