It’s almost too sad to even mention and if you don’t look closely you’d never see that one tiny snowdrop near my front door. The air smells warmer and there’s a flowering prune tree in my neighborhood. The daffodils at work are still very short though. Some years they are in full bloom by the first of March. Not this year. And snow at 1000 feet forecast for Friday night/Saturday morning. These nudges of spring help me feel more alive and more active — definitely coming out of a mental hibernation and fog. The bare branches of the maple tree make black veins against the pre-dawn colored sky in the morning when I go out to get the paper. Recently there was a crescent moon added to the tableau. It is moments like that where I can notice the natural world and feel connected, even as my work and volunteer activities continue at a fevered pitch. One of my friends offered smooth boating after this whitewater ride — she included a meal and a glass of wine and a celebration at that future idyll. My grandmother used to say, “Where there’s life, there’s hope.” Yep. There is.