Cloudy air, deep blue expanse above, sun’s brightening rays yearn for a debut. Three girls seek the garden to dance among the blushing blossoms and whisper childhood secrets, sisterly notions. The ground is not yet ready in this early spring endeavor, yet the small girls jump enthusiastically, enjoying an emerging sun.

Swirls and spins of movement and motion arching and curving away and back toward, the center, the beginning, a hopeful journey turning, returning. Toward pretending and starched whites in the sky, the sun long ago receding, waiting for spring’s presence, with green buds approaching the tops of dank soil. Twisted soft petals push up toward free air, in time finally blooming.

Later, we watch from a patio’s protection as whispering rains nourish the soaked flat landscape, anticipating the explosion of verdant expressions. Yellow daffodils and blue irises finish their game of hiding. Soon burnt orange parrot tulips and tender, shy crocuses will emerge victoriously. The rain quiets and we examine the rivers of water in the soil. Tiny hands wait impatiently above the awakening earth, bright minds eager for transforming visions of springtime’s gentle blooms.

Winter’s rage has howled fiercely through cracks and trees and optimism for months, spreading icy dispositions with frozen snow, drifts, across the mind with generous disdain. The pale, white landscape froze nature in time, delaying animals and flights and important plans. All petrified weather seems distant now with new rains, clearing skies, brightening dispositions. All seems a colorful palate of promise, opportunity, lengthening light and shadows, and easiness of heart.

Three girls sprawl on large blankets and share, snuggle, chat, discuss life playfully, until the sun has lowered and shadows stretch, the fertile soil quiets, and pungent, fragrant air begins to form a chill, and the warmth of home beckons us inside.