Spring

Today I saw flower shoots, some open, some tightly closed fearful of accepting this unseasonable weather--suspecting that the cold will return. I am ready to put away the heavy clothes of winter, ready to wear shoes that don't flaunt how impervious they are to snow, slush and mud.

Spring, with it's promises, is akin to that new book or unused tablet, or first taste of local tomatoes. Spring is the season of possibilities.

Whether I exercise those possibilities is always the question.