It’s 3 degrees outside at 8AM on March 6^th. “Feels like” -12. It’s cold. Stupid cold. Air-hurts-my-face cold. And I am over it.

But that cold wind is blowing the spring in. I’m sure of this. There are 30’s and 40’s and even 50’s in the forecast. This makes me want to dance.

I’m really a warm weather person. Winter makes me perpetually cold and my hands are always chapped. I need blankets and ridiculous amounts of clothing just to get through. So I always long for spring. I get anxious for warm summer days and skirts and swimming and lush green, growing things.

But this particular winter, holding on so tightly right now on the bright sunny morning, it feels particularly long and cold. This is the winter that took my mother. And I’m ready for it to ride out of here with the wind and make space for spring. I’m ready to sit out on our new porches and play in our new yard and see the tulips we planted come up.

An act of faith. That is what planting tulips is.

I’m ready to see them come to fruition.