daffodils.

it was overcast.  and early.  but not as early as it usually is for my morning commute.  with a training today, i had the luxury of sleeping in until 6:35.  even had enough time to grab an iced coffee at starbucks on the way.  and a brownie, but i'm certainly not in the business of counting calories, especially before 8 a.m.

just a few miles from the interstate, but it was already backroads, country as cornbread.  taking a windy road to get to the training site, i almost missed it.  i had to do a double-take.  it can't be! i thought.  no, it really is!

daffodils.  daffodils!

they caught me off guard, as it's barely mid-february and it most certainly doesn't feel much like spring.

but immediately, just like every other year since i've moved to nashville, the tears came, and i choked them back with a smile.

daffodils are the first flowers of spring.  followed by lilies, and then finally, my favorite: tulips.  before you know it, the bradford pears and dogwoods are covered in brilliant white and pink blooms, and spring is out in full force (which you'll soon hate, too, due to seasonal allergies; but let's not kill the hope before it comes).

but, you see: it's still winter.  our gas bill is still high enough to prove it.  there's a chance of snow this weekend.

but, spring is coming.  yes, indeed, it is coming.

sometimes, our lives parallel this example of winter dormancy.  all is cold, and quiet, and bitter, and appears dead.  it feels like new life is never on the way.  like the promise of hope and {warmth} of future will certainly expire before they come into fruition.  in those times, it's the simple sign of the blooming daffodil that reminds us this is but for a season.  the little signals of hope that are almost too small to notice.  cling tight to them.  don't forget them.

you may not be out of your winter yet.  you've been weakened and defeated and left in the cold.  you're enraged at that over-commercialized rodent predicted another 6 weeks of frightful, frigid air.  but rest assured, the daffodils still bloom beneath the threat of dropping mercury.

hold tight, precious one.  spring time is coming.  He hasn't left you in Winter forever.