It's a glorious day.

Wow!

The sun is shining, the sky is blue, there are a few pinkish white clouds floating in from the west.  I'm telling you, it is truly a magnificent morning.  It's a bit on the chilly side, but who cares, after all it is January, it is supposed to be cold.

This is the kind of day that conjures up spring.  The marsh marigolds are already up, but not blooming yet, and the daffodils have broken ground, too.  I have a few crocus in the yard, but the moles have pushed the bulbs around so much I never know if they will appear or where for that matter.

Although I am enjoying today's weather, and yes, I'm contemplating spring, I don't want it to come too soon.  I'm sort of enjoying the anticipation of it.  You know, that day when we can throw open all our windows, shed our thermals and sit bare-armed on our front stoops.  What a day that will be.

However, I really don't want that day to come too soon.  Because that would mean the longest daylight day of the year is fast approaching, and you all know how I feel about that.

Besides, for now I want to spend part of my mornings, hot, steamy, coffee mug in hand, perusing my back yard, checking my pussy willow tree, looking for those soft grey kitties to see if they have started marching across its branches.  I want to see the delicate yellow blooms of the forsythias and the tiny pink blossoms of the flowering plums slowly decorate themselves, their scents awakening the bees, and providing nectar for the hummingbirds. 

I want to smell those blossoms myself, and I want to feel that soft, warm breeze against my cheek.  And, I long to nibble on a stem of watercress I've got growing in
my yard.  Still, come slowly, sweet spring.  Don't hurry, just provide me a day from time to time during winter's grey, with hints of your wonder.  For now I'm content with your bright green mosses, swelling buds and the birds that, like me, sense it is time for rebirth.

Hello sunny day, thanks for stopping by and filling me with hope of what's to come.