The days have became significantly warmer and thus our snow is slowly, but surely melting. As soon as the vital spring rays hit the remains of the old, white, icy precipitation, it turns slowly into small streams of liquid, collecting in pools here and there.
The magic of the sun is reflected in all the spring plants that grow taller by each day. My very first crocus is almost in bloom, flaunting its blue crown, standing tall and majestic. So delicate, yet so strong, this first flower of spring holds my outermost admiration.
While Lady Winter packs her bags, preparing to pass the reign over to Lady Spring, there is also a slight melancholy connected to the vanishing of the snow. As its inner most layers are exposed with the last thaw, bringing back fallen autumn leaves, I recognize in it the first snow that fell some ninety days ago. That magical first snow, that brought us our white Christmas and transferred the dull, grey landscape into an enchanted fairytale.
As I relish in all the joy and renewal that is so palpable in the air with the changing of the seasons, I still pause a moment to reflect over our departing winter; a unique one and a magnificent one in every way.