After seemingly endless days of rain, gray skies, and black horizons, the sun has finally returned. It’s busting through the clouds and pouring through my windows so that it streaks across the hardwood floor. The sunlight is glinting off the puddles that dot my yard and dance across the birdfeeder hanging on the deck. It all coalesces into dreams of Spring. But I know by the whir of the heater that blows almost constantly that it is still cold outside. The weatherman remains doubtful that it will even reach 40 degrees today, but still I dream of Spring despite the fact that it is still many months away.
In Cincinnati, we will not be finally graced with a continuous kiss of Spring until mid-April. Winter lingers long here with late snows that kill earnest flower buds that peek out of the ground too early.
But, for what it’s worth I will dream of Spring today as I bundle up to run my errands. It seems fitting in a way. I am working with a new character today, and I know that in a way, both of us are dreaming of Spring.