The Passing of Winter

On the first day of spring last week, I stood in my small urban backyard and listened to hidden birds sing. Daffodil shoots peaked from beneath the soil. Yet, the wind still carried a chill touch.

St. Francis
St. Francis welcoming spring in my backyard. (Photograph by author)

For a passing moment, I could forget that I lived in a dense neighborhood, in a dense city, in the densest part of the country. I found myself surrounded by nature shrugging off the restorative somnolence of winter.

Poets and priests (among many others) consider spring to be a time of renewal and beginnings. I wonder what this new season shall bring.

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