Sure, it’s white, but a grungy-looking white. I’m referring to our recent snow. It wasn’t very pretty when I went out for my walk this morning and sloshed through the stuff under a leadened sky. The ground is covered with it and the path around the pond in my local park is not cleared of the mush. Overnight it’s turned cold and windy so this slop is starting to freeze solid. Will winter ever end?
A dark cloud hovers over me as I make my grumpy way around the pond. I don’t like this weather. I’m just out for a mandatory morning constitutional. But, wait! Next to a park bench, there is a promise written in snow on the angled directional sign next to it. Someone took a moment to trace this with their finger: “Spring is comin.”
I read somewhere that if you keep a green bough in your heart God will send there a singing bird. And, I recall now that it’s the cusp of a February which happens only every four years. We’ll have a Feb. 29th this year. An extra day comin’? It feels to me like a gift. Something hopeful stirs in my heart as I trudge the last hundred yards of my trek.
Then, I remember what happened yesterday. Like it was echoing a distant emergency vehicle siren, I heard a cardinal sing full song in my backyard. I checked and there from a low icy branch of my pear tree a red-bird was singing with full-throated flute-like clarity,
Now I have experienced two signs of hope in the middle of a gloomy winter: those grace-filled people who can anticipate Spring and redbirds who feel it coming What appears dead is living. Look at those barren trees! Not a leaf on any of them. Not a green bough anywhere. But, just wait! It’s comin’! Spring is comin!