The pond at the Boston Public Garden has not yet been filled, so the footbridge looked odd above the muddy expanse. Still, the anticipation of what was to come made things all the more exciting, and as I watched the leaf-blowers begin their winter clean-up, the heart thrilled at the prospect of a warmer season. Witch hazel, crocus, and a few snowdrops were all that bloomed, but they were at least a start.
The willows were just beginning to show their yellow-green color. The sky looked promising too. We’ll get there. All in good time.
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