I think the tide has turned. Winter, for as weak as it was this year, has finally lost its struggle to hold on to the days. Spring has emerged from her cave and taken to the world with grandmother’s caring and well-trained hands. All around us the green is returning.

Daffodils march along the side of the roads. Crocuses peer from amid the last grey leaves on the ground, and the trees exhale their yellowy breath of pollen across everything.

There is no easier time to be in love with the earth, and no easier time to marvel at its machine like energy churning up what was with what will be.

Now if only I can find my spring jacket.