Another almost-invisible speck of green poked through the remaining snow. She knelt beside it, wanting to touch it, but refrained as its delicate stalk danced in the gentle breeze. There were signs of spring everywhere she looked, in the trees, where once bare limbs shivered in the cold, now slowly warm themselves with hundreds of baby leaf blankets.
Her walk finds her at the river's edge, where the ice has melted for the most part, allowing the streams to flow with purpose as she cupped her hands and drank the ice-cold water. In the distance, a newborn bird screams its song for its mother, who's never too far away, gathering food to fill their empty stomachs.
She had walked a good distance from her home and knew it wouldn't be long before her mom called out to her to come inside for a warm bowl of soup. She had another look at the magic of spring that surrounded her house, wondering how many more tiny miracles would appear overnight as she slept.
The morning brought the color green everywhere she looked, as if the warmth had arrived overnight and taken the snow away for another year. Splashes of color from the tulip bulbs planted in the autumn burst into an artist's palette of reds, yellows, and white, rising from hidden places known only to her.
It was her special place, with sights she had longed for amid the endless cold of winter's fury. Her love for the outside, where animals ran free, and time was measured by hunger pains. Her vision of living in the forest was etched in her mind: chasing fireflies in mason jars and never forgetting her role as a caretaker of nature. It was her calling, and the forests listened to her every word.
Mike 2026 
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