A Testament of Time

It's snowing again, which I guess is okay. I just... It saddens me. Spring is on the doorstep waiting idly by to begin. The daffodils have already started sprouting forth from the ground, bunches of deep green leaves jutting into the sky as if to say 'we're here let us out now!' Buds have already started to form upon the trees. The birds are returning one by one their melodious songs carrying through the still barren woods. Familiar songs not heard in months are now returning in abundance. The sun is coming out more and more each day, but instead of spring bustling forth in full glory we have snow, cold nights, cold days and the green trying so valiantly to step forth being buried under a blanket of white.

Spring is one of my favorite seasons but more and more each year it seems to grow shorter, dimmer, being squeezed out by the nagging winter and the heat of summer. Every year I look for spring, look for flowers to begin pushing through the surfaces that remained barren for so long, look to the skies for birds gathering nesting materials, to the trees for their pretty greenery and every year I become disappointed as spring arrives for barely a week then is gone again.

When I was a child the springs seemed so much longer. I'm not sure what happened. Whether it's just the change in age and time or the supposed greenhouse effect, perhaps we're on the verge of the apocalypse, but whatever it is spring seems to be suffering, diminishing and fading. My favorite season of the year seems so very short now and there's nothing to be done about it.

I gaze out my windows and see white every where. It's prettily laying on every branch and every surface, but it leaves me feeling sad, feeling blue. I'm surrounded in a pretty white cover, yet when I look out each window and door I feel a sinking feeling in my heart for the loss of what is spring trying desperately to emerge, to come into full bloom. Oh spring how I long for thee. Won't you come back to me?