Is there anything more hope-filled than the first bright blue sky of warmer weather after a long winter? Now, each morning, first rays of sun peek over farm fields hugging the horizon as I drive to school. Days are lengthening. No longer do I travel to and from in black dark, my body telling me I should still be in bed. All things wake in the spring, and these early glimpses bring joy.
Jack Frost was out early one morning, painting waiting branches with white diamond feathers spread thick. It did not last long. Warm sun soon spread melting rays. All around a hopeful drip, drip, drip began; first in eaves, then trickling across pavement. I can feel it now. This winter will not last forever. Hope creeps in, past frosty parts of my heart. Newness is coming.