Every year, along about the time it seems winter will last forever, when you think blue skies are only a distant memory, there's a breath of hope. It's almost a ritual with me now. As the end of January approaches I make it a point to wander past the drive to Scarlett's house. Right where the garden fence meets the aged cottonwood tree, there's a protected patch of magic.
Scarlett's snowdrops bloom weeks before mine. So when the delicate green tips of mine began to poke through the mulch last week I knew it was time.
Yesterday I clipped Penny's leash on and we ventured down the road for a sight to gladden my heart. Snowdrops!
The color of the foliage is the precise shade of springtime. Their fragrance is that of hope, of good things ahead.
If I were a flower, I think I'd like to be a snowdrop, that quintessential encourager. Spring is coming, and blue skies are ahead.
I dashed home inspired, Penny's tail bobbing alongside me.