Hints of Spring

Snow on the ground: check

Morning temps in the teens: check

Studs on my bicycle tires: check

Cold hands and feet when I arrive at work: check, check, check

But there is a hint of spring as if the earth knows it has a super power. The birds know, so do the squirrels running the fence posts. The dogs on leashes have a lighter step to their gait. The light breaking through the clouds has a purpose, a re-found courage to shine.

During the day the ice and snow melt on the streets and sidewalk, only to refreeze at night. There is a fresh dusting of snow each morning, but it is soon gone. Light lingers in the sky later, Now after work I can walk to Tom’s Food Center, past the pond and tattered woods where there is a water renewal project going on, and it’s still not dark. The birds and the ground know—and they emit little sounds—as if breathing.

They are no longer holding their breath. Once again the earth did what its always done before: The return of Persephone. Spring. A great fecund awakening.