It teases with a shift in light. Emerging buds. Tiny shoots and receding drifts of snow.
Yesterday morning, Greatest Husband and I watched as our returning Cooper’s hawks gathered branches for this year’s nest. We counted the tips of tulips pointing their noses skyward. (Would all 500+ that I planted last fall really make their appearance?)
Yesterday, my last amaryllis opened with exuberance on the first official day of spring.
Today, a blizzard.
One last morning of blowing snow to burn up all the firewood that remains on the front porch, while sipping coffee, finishing up a crocheted afghan project and blogging.
Making the best of spring’s holding pattern.