Spring Has Come

The breeze is warm again; the clouds are white and fluffy. I can hear the light cooing of the mourning dove perched in the backyard tree. The grass is standing straight, and it is turning green; the flowers of the field are turning their fresh petals towards the sun and opening, revealing the bright colors inside.

I fling open the upstairs windows. I pull the blinds from the glass, and I can smell the scent of fresh cut grass mixed with clean linen. From the upstairs window, I can see the surrounding trees, each covered in its own blanket of fresh green leaves. In between the new shoots I can see many different birds - doves, robins, and bluejays - each one singing its cheerful tune, welcoming back the green trees and lawn.

The sky is the most wonderful shade of light blue, the color we see after a heavy downpour. It looks new and clean, filled with clouds that look like cotton candy. If I could lift up my hand and touch those clouds, they would be as soft as silk, and as my fingers passed through the billows, they might even sparkle a bit in the bright new sun.

The sunlight covers everything, filling every corner of the world with a shimmer of hope and new life. It warms the grass and paints the trees in a golden light special to this time of year. The children can play again; no longer are they confined to the four walls of the house. They run barefoot through the tall grass, throwing their warm sweaters into the air and shreiking for joy that freedom from the awful itchy things has finally come. The snows of winter have gone away, melted into the ground to water the leaf-sprouting trees. The cold December wind has been blown away by the warm breezes of May, and the grey sky of January has faded into a gorgeous blue satin.

Winter is gone, life has begun again. Spring has come.