Out back, I have yellow winter eranthis blooming, and my snowdrops are trembling on the edge of bursting forth. Wednesday, it is supposed to be 52 degrees. Perhaps Spring will come. Hope, and with it a diffident confidence, is already growing, day by day, inside me. Hope that things are getting better, that life is getting better, that inside the winter of my soul is making way for spring and renewal.
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A "spring shelf" in my living room, with chicks, bunnies, lambs, and oddments. It lifts my spirits. |
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A spring nesting bird under a glass cloche I made in a workshop last year, with a cheapo flower garland twined around it, and glass eggs on either side. |
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