Spring

Winter weighs heavy on me after a while with it's yellow grass, barren trees, and dead flowers. Its overcast sky represses the sunlight that used to make my skin a golden brown. I often wonder if winter will last forever. 

But each year, without fail, signs of life begin to appear. At first it's slow--a small patch of green grass and a tiny bud--but then it's as though everything explodes with life simultaneously. Harsh, wooden branches yield up soft, delicate blossoms in an array of sweet-scented pastels. 

The bite of winter's frost starts to soften into the embrace of a warm spring breeze with sunshine gently kissing my cheeks, turning them a rosy pink. Where the prickly remains of last year's grass once was, a tender blanket of new grass grows.

The anxiety of winter fades into the promise of summer and second chances spring up with the daffodils.