I spent a few moments at the window today, enjoying the view. The vivid blue sky and snow sparkling in the sunshine were beautiful memorials to the delightful side of winter. It is so easy to forget. Rabbit and squirrel tracks crisscrossed the backyard and icicles pierced the drifted snow on the deck. A cardinal in the neighbor's tree flitted about the bare branches, stopping briefly now and then to fluff his ruby feathers. Looking into the backyard I noticed the swing. It swayed slowly in the wind and a mound of snow covered the seat; it seemed to be patiently waiting for an anxious rider to brush away winter's dust and fly away.
The swing's wait echoes my own as I submissively look for signs of spring. Winter's heavy blanket, once a cozy cover, is starting to itch and I long to throw back the increasingly dismal shroud and dance in spring's embrace. But until I hear the robin's song, I will sit at the window, enjoy the view and wait.
