Walking through the city park the other day I came across a large patch of bare ground with snowdrops. I will always think of my mom whenever I see snowdrops–partly because she says she always thinks of me when she sees them. As a kid I was SO excited to find snowdrops - the very first flower of spring where I grew up. I would grab a few and run inside yelling "MOM! The snowdrops are HERE!!!" She would show equal excitement and praise me for having "such great eyes" that were able to spot the white flowers peaking up through the broken patches of white snow.
This morning we awoke to a new coating of snow but I still have my lone snowdrop, courageously yelling "Spring!" inside the safety of its champagne glass.
To all you cold climate dwellers: go out and find a couple of snowdrops and remind yourself that Spring is indeed on its way!
I was meant to roam over to your blog on this cloudy, grey morning in Maine. This is the sweetest post I've ever read on a blog. Thank you for encouraging me to look at the world with fresh eyes. I miss you. Jan
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