Spring officially arrived last week. That Polar Vortex we were stuck in made it seem like a longer than usual winter and we couldn't wait for spring to get here. But in typical fashion, it can't decide if it really is or really isn't. Spring is such a fickle season.
Robins? Yes, they're here. The other day I counted 20 on my lawn at one time! I think they had just landed. There are several out there now, wondering if they're a bit early. But I'm assuming they have good information from a reliable source and that spring really is here. I can't wait for the rest of the summer birds to arrive and fill the trees with their songs.
I did see the first signs of spring in the garden just yesterday. The Hostas are poking their little heads up through the leaves and taking a look around. Not yet, I tell them. I don't want you to freeze. But I have seen no other sure signs of spring yet. No crocuses or daffodils celebrating the season, no little green buds on the trees. But there will be. Soon, I'm sure. And when spring springs, it will be glorious! Color will be everywhere. New birds will be at the feeders. New chicks will follow their parents in adorable little formations, new fawns will test their wobbly legs.
Spring. Everything is new, and fresh, and we appreciate what we have missed. And this season we are in now, this waiting season, is Hope. And Faith. And Patience. We know it will come. Soon. And it will be worth the wait.
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