Spring has come to this corner of the world. At least, you can see it now in the leaves uncurling and the flowers of the magnolias opening. They look so heavy, so impossible somehow. The girls at our school have peeled off their tights, the boys have switched to shorts.
But these signs are totally obvious. Spring has been coming for a long time before it actually shows up.
I noticed the early signs, like the metal pails hung up on spigots around the village to catch maple trees’ sap. Or my cat Omi shedding his winter coat so that my fingers were full of clotted fur when I petted him.
The thing is, it’s happening even earlier than that. It’s happening before we can see it, before there are any visible signs.
Sometimes I find it hard to remember this, but I’m going to try. When it feels like winter, I’m going to tell myself: it’s really Spring.
Change is happening way before we can see it or touch it or smell its perfume.