It was a nice winter, but I'm ready for the leaves to come back. I'm a southern girl now, there's no need for snow around here. Oh sure, a small sprinkling is a treat every once in a while. But, the snow is so rare, I'd rather lose the cold weather altogether and with it the hope of a snowfall.
Such hope is empty anyway. It cannot create snow.
A sad statement, admittedly, but such is life.
Our winter is bare and sunny. Drabness is short lived. Gray retreats as quickly as it appears. Sun surprises us weekly. And we wear shorts.
But the sun reflects on the naked limbs of the trees, and they respond with a faint hibernating groan. Come back, they say. Not now. We're tired.
And so the sun is wasted. There is no glory, just unfulfilled potential.
Which really, is not anything at all.
(Sigh)
I sit here in quiet and long for the leaves.
Lesson Learned: America is being covered with snow as I type. I had no idea.
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