Spring has been a long time coming this year. Each day above freezing would make me hopeful, only to have those hopes dashed the next day's offering of sub-32 degree weather, or even worse, snow.
I tried to be patient as February changed to March. I would remind myself that it hadn't started snowing until December. I would remind myself that spring didn't technically start until March 20th. I would remind myself that no winter has lasted forever.
Nothing seemed to help. As one cold day followed another, I could feel myself getting irritable, frustrated, sure that this winter would be the first endless winter. The cold seemed to seep into everything: my bones, my thoughts, my motivation.
But eventually, even the hardest, coldest winters end.
The snow eventually melts.
The days eventually turn warm.
Driving passed fields still gray and brown with the stubble of last years harvest, I can start to feel the hope of green.
It may have been a long time coming, but I think that spring is finally here.