I must admit, this wintery weather has put me in quite the melancholy mood as of late. The constant cloudy days. The snow-covered ground. It's only magical when it first falls. After that, it just gets plain dreary.
So I ask, "Spring, where are you?" My little heart is frozen in this frigid state of winter. I'm longing for sunshine, budding flowers, green grass, and the smell of fresh air.
In my rebellion against winter, I have not worn socks with my shoes all week. Nope. Not even my thin dress socks. My poor feet need to breathe. They, too, are itching to walk barefoot in the grass. To wear a cute pair of strappy sandals. To be let loose from the dungeon of winter boots.
So Spring, I ask you again..."Where are you? And when will you arrive to this Midwest Arctic?" It's as if we're trapped in Narnia before the Daughters of Eve and Sons of Adam arrived. When the White Witch still held firmly to her grip of the land. Just the other day, I saw that the Pear Blossom Trees are beginning to produce little buds. A sure sign that Spring is quickly approaching and this Indiana town won't be locked in the White Witch's grip much longer.
For now, I suppose, as I wait for the warm weather to finally arrive, I will gaze upon flowers that conjure the memory of Spring and remind me of what that joyous season of growth holds.