FROSTY MORN

Old man winter is dragging his frosty toes about leaving. He makes sure to remind us by sneaking in at the wee hours and dressing the earth with a coat of sparkling white.

I'm oh so ready for Miss. Spring to make her grand entrance, as she comes riding on a sunbeam.

The garden soil is frozen hard and unrelenting but still the brave tulips push through, and accept the ravages of the old man. The life force is so strong within their heart.

As the frost slowly melts, water droplets form by the hundred. The wintered Pony tail grass holds the droplets as if they were many sparkling gems.
Oh! Will winter ever be gone?

And then I go to a lower garden in the back yard and what do I find?

SNOWDROPS! Little, white promises.

Miss. Spring is smiling just beyond the big fir tree. It's her turn next and she's ready.

So am I.

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