The birth of spring is a promise. 

This was the hardest winter in a long, long time.  Relentless snows, unending frigid temperatures, endless grey skies. We can fight and resist and complain - or walk hand in hand with the seasons, embracing all of their moods. 

Because no matter how fierce, how bitter, how biting; the cycles of the seasons promise us:  - All will be green again! - All will be fragrant again! - All will be alive again!

Isn't that promise enough?

 I must admit,  March and I have never gotten along. I used to despise the muddy, ugly, cold and rainy month. I would put on my spring clothes even though the temps were still barely past 40 as if, by doing so, magically, spring would appear. I would complain. A lot. I would resist. A lot.

I've made peace with March.

Now I  meet March as she is.  Unkempt, unpredictable - mud and all!  I don my mud boots, winter coat and hat (for one more month).I walk up and face her and smile knowingly. Because I know….

I know she is only preparing us for what comes next:  

The first signs are inevitable.  For all of time, the birds have returned to build their nests and the grass and buds have risen out of the cold earth. 

 We wait.  We trust. 

And our hearts soar at the first signs of spring.

~ j