The view out my window is desolate today, save for the few small patches of used-up snow…strewn here and there like old worn-out socks, dropped by a woman wandering aimlessly in search of a sunny day…to hang her laundry against a bright, blue sky.   Poor little socks of snow, peppered with bits of grit and grime.  They’ve exchanged their pristine, fresh-bleached wonder for the drab garb of the days between winter and spring.  And that scruffy, old lawn… it  gave up long, long ago. Wearied, under the weight of snow and ice, fending off the bitter cold…beaten down, leached of color and and thirsting for what?  It just doesn’t know.  In these days, even the sky lacks the will to draw back the  silvery, gray curtain which hangs between the winter-weary and the warmth of sun. Yet, here I perch, fingers pressed against a cold window pane.

It is coming.  I know it.  I sensed it today.  Sifting softly, so faintly through my windows and walls.  A sweet breathy whisper drew me here to the sill…leaning forward…looking outward…to say a farewell.  Farewell weathered garden, littered with leaves.  Good-bye to short days and to long winter eves.  I’m leaning forward, looking on up ahead, watching eagerly, oh so eagerly, for Spring.

‘So glad that colorful days follow close on the heels of this period between winter and spring…

“Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it.  But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”  Philippians 3:13,14  [NIV]