It’s been a long, trying winter for those of us who’ve wanted to visit Boston. With all of the snow, I couldn’t make it back until this past weekend, and even then I was unsure of what I’d find. To my pleasant surprise, most of the snow had dwindled into a few dirty piles here and there. Glimpses of apocalyptic scenes remained – the new dogwood tree that had been planted in front of our building was stripped of a few of its branches, while snow banks continued to reveal parking spot savers and bits of dirty debris. But the temperatures were on the rise, and even though most of Saturday was filled with wet snow and a driving wind, none of it stuck.
Instead, there were sights of promise and hope, like the batch of snowdrops in bloom here. Drifts of daffodils were also seen poking through brown leaves and wet soil in the more protected spots that caught the sun and melted the snow sooner than other areas. The hopelessness of winter was dissipating. The shift was discernible. There was energy and excitement in the air.
It’s all about to begin again…
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