
But the time is changing.

A river of blue runs through the clouds. The faint green smell of growing things hangs in the morning mist like a dream before waking. The earth heaves with the rhythms of temperature and light..

And life.

Hush! Can you hear? The turn of brass, the sigh of hinge. Could it be the door opens...

hesitantly, ever so slightly?

Could it be Spring lies just beyond?