Most of March so far had me fooled into thinking that spring just might not arrive after all this year. We’d get a tiny taste of spring then WHAM! Winter would say uh-uh, not so fast. Such is life in northern Michigan and maybe I’m just becoming more of a softie. But. I’m ready for spring. Bring. It. On! I’m ready to be able to get outside easily and not worry about layers and wet cotton socks, about lost mittens or hats, about driving through a white-out, about Chris shoveling off the roof. About flannel and another pot of hot soup. Steamy tea and more blankets. Thanks, winter. You definitely paid us a good visit, but you’ve overstayed your welcome and we’re now saying, “good bye!”

The reality here near the 45th parallel is that with the glory of a blooming crocus comes the distinct possibility that it will just as soon get blanketed in snow. Maybe this is why they are so very beautiful? So brave, no?

Well I’m taking my clue by the skinny snowmen who are now almost completely gone and yes, by the calendar posted on the wall. And by the amazingly bright full moon. And by the new found energy that the little birdie has: so excited to run on grass again. Makes me wonder if she even remembers what it is, it’s been so very long since she’s seen it in her short life!?

Truth be told, I’m not putting away one piece of winter gear. Yet. But I just washed Wren’s snowsuit for, what I told myself, would be the LAST time this year. If that doesn’t curse me, I’m not sure what else could.

Welcome, spring. We’re happy you’re here.

What signs of spring have you seen in your neck o’ the woods, lovelies? XO