The Promise of a Pussy Willow Bud.

March feels different. The very tip of Spring - a promise. A note from nature telling us our sufferance all winter did not go unnoticed. Our surroundings teeter into a constant shift, a welcome relief from winters unwavering stillness. A pendulum is set into motion, slowly at first but gaining momentum before our eyes. The snow melts, leaving behind icy puddles for the daring first groups of migrant birds. A branch opens its bud signaling the rest to do the same. March brings the appearance of things forgotten. The fine details of the landscape reemerge, long hidden under a monochrome blanket of winter’s whites and gray. Though winter can resurge at a moment’s notice, March promises it won’t be for long. The winds of change are well underway.