I love late winter.
The air is crisp and cool and clean.
Blue skies are decorated
With clouds of white lace and puffs of gray cotton.

A trace of overnight snow melts from the pine tree —
The sun glinting off the drops
Like dozens of sparkling diamonds
Falling to earth.

The vegetation is alive with dozens of shades of green.
The old, dark forest greens of last year’s growth.
The vibrant bright green of new grass
Breaking through the yellow-green of our winter-weary lawn,
The soft light-green of new growth
Beginning on the evergreen trees,
And the unnamed shades of green in between.

Last year’s grasses,
Drab in varied colors of brown,
Stand like tall sentinels along the fence rows
Waiting to be overtaken
By the spiky stems of spring.
Short, stubbly fields, shorn of last fall’s hay,
Still rise above the new growth
Bravely peeking through.

Here and there purple crocus
Brighten a flower bed,
And yellow daffodils trumpet the news,
“Springtime is near!”
A flowering plum is in full bloom,
Pointing to the time
When the cherry and apple trees blossom
And set fruit for a new year’s crop.

Suddenly the sky darkens
Like the face of a distraught child
And tears fall from the heavens.
But I know it won’t last long.
The wind is chasing the dark clouds away
Like a collie herding sheep,
And patches of blue are already moving in from the horizon.

In the early evening the frogs croak their chorus
For any who care to listen
Singing, “Spring is coming!
Spring is Coming!”

I love late winter.
It is a time of change,
A time of hope,
A promise of better days to come.


About torimcrae

Tori is a good writer aspiring to be a great writer. The mother of four adult kids she is currently pursuing postponed dreams. She enjoys her grandkids, traveling with hubby, spinning fiber, weaving, and raising Shih Tzus. Currently Tori posts to this blog on Mondays and Fridays.
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