I keep looking for signs of Spring, but I am very sorry that I can't find any. Not even a spit of green from the crocuses, not even a hint of yellow from the forsythia. There is nothing going on outside in the garden, except footprints from the mailman being lazy, walking across them instead of using the walk from Mr. B's house to Ours'(as I shake my head thinking about it). Everything in the garden is sleeping, and I, for one, am looking forward to my favorite time of the year.
I know that in the spring things will change, doors and windows will open, and we will emerge from our toasty cocoon, to a fragrant, new and exciting season. I can wait, with enjoyment for the newness of the bounty that is before us, rejoice and relish today, smiling at yesterday, having my eyes wide open for tomorrow.