MIST CURLED AROUND the slender white birches. Rain drummed across their budding leaves, pert little green stubs happily soaking up the moisture. A tiny crocus bobbed its purple calyx at the sky, singing a silent harmony with the gentle downpour. It had been waiting a long time. And now, the crocus’ leaves quivered in excitement at the many stories it would tell the new buds when they bloomed.
Written: 15 March 2016