come in softly

On a day with particularly blue sky and the sudden arrival of a carpet of snowdrops and crocuses near the library, I asked Becky, 'Is it Spring?'

Unfortunately Spring only properly arrives in March. But the return of birds to the trees and the white almond blossoms blooming everywhere have me convinced that it is creeping in.The sunlight looks different, less blue and more green, and though days are still cold they are less grey.

Alex tells me that her Grandma tells her to look for enough blue in the sky to sew a pair of sailor's trousers, and sometimes we have enough to clothe an entire navy.

Yesterday morning the grass was all frosted over, but as the sun rose the frost receded, and I could see the clear line between green sun-kissed grass and the frosty grass in the retreating shade.

Now I understand the beavers' longing for spring in 'The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe', after the witch's spell of seemingly eternal winter:

“Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”

Will that be heaven too? The Spring that follows the Winter of human existence, life upon life after we have lost all our leaves? Quickly come, Lord Jesus.