Though the winter was cherished, by the moment adored, from the sun-brightened icy-puddle to the fresh white-page snow, the first day of the spring is upon the platform, ticket punched. And so to the keen eye, to the one who cares to see, there are new buds upon old trees, there are new blooms born to a warming Earth.
It takes a braveness to show the newly sprung green when all around is icy cold, yet upon this first day of spring that is what the bulbs must do if their brightness is to light up the season.
When the whispers of the winter time have become to faint to hear, when the lullaby of the springtime echoes in sun-warmed ears, we have arrived at the first day of springtime.
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