Day 95: January has given a promise: Spring is on the way. It is written in silver, burnished in russet and dark umber, a calligraphy of soft buds on a dark grey canvas. It is softly spoken, this assurance; voiced low beneath the muttering rain and clamorous freshets, its gentle embellishments a melody to embroider upon the robin's waking call. Place your trust in January's pledge, and endure the winter's raspy syllables but a moment longer. Pussywillows are rising to open Spring's grand chorus!
No comments:
Post a Comment