We are six days into Spring, and the snow is gently falling.
Yesterday, the weather was truly spring-like, reaching into the low 60's.
The children, thrilled to be out of the house
and not bogged down in mud,
spent the day playing in the sunshine;
in shirt sleeves and shorts, despite my
prostestations that wasn't *that* warm out.
Daddy and Logan took advantage of the beautiful day and
spent it re-decking the porch
and giving it new stairs.
Both of which were desperately needed.
Later today, after the snow quit falling
and there was a lull in the rain,
they returned to the porch,
making it a bit safer for the little set,
adding rustic posts and top rails made of branches
blown off our trees this past winter.
Apple branches will likely be the lower rails, but until we can
get them brought home,
1x2's make for temporary railing.
I love these early Spring days,
bringing the urgency of outdoor projects
and new life.
Raking the yard, beginning to prepare the garden area,
fixing broken windows in the greenhouse.
Checking on the berry bushes and herbs
planted last year
seeing leaves beginning to bud
and plants starting to green.
And yet amidst that, there are still remnants of Winter.
Cold winds, rain, snow.
Weather perfect for settling in next to the fire
with a hot cup of tea and my Bible ~
or a small child
and a pile of picture books.
While each season holds its own fascination,
tugging at my heart for reasons
no other season has,
Winter is truly my favorite.
I love the quietness brought by snow,
the warmth imbued to a cold winter night by lights
shining through windows.
I love the romance and coziness of candlelight and fire,
I love flannel and woolens
and all things snuggle worthy.
And so, while everyone else runs out the door
and embraces the first flush of Spring,
I move slowly toward it,
savoring the dying embers of Winter's life.
Soon enough, Spring will be here in full force ~
no turning back.
And then, for her moment,
she will be my favorite.
Until then, I will cherish these last moments
with my dear Winter.