The spring had with it warmth and happiness. Basking in its radiant sunlight, the earth could finally forget the melancholy of winter landscapes, with their dull-white snow and dried branches. The blacks and whites of winter had finally brightened into full-blown colour: the sky a tranquil blue, the earth covered with green grass.
Flower buds of so many hues peeped out from amidst the limbs and twigs. These delicate buds, bursting forth from dried bark, had been forced to endure dreadful chills. But nonetheless they had always continued to prepare for the passing of the awful winter chill.
Now, the snows could no longer remain stubborn in the face of the warmth that had arrived. So the ice thawed and the water soaked into the earth, to be swallowed up by roots and refresh the plants.
The spring knows no favourites. It even visited my garden, nudging the plants there to blossom. But in nature everything is constantly changing, and the flowers in my garden are no exception. Eventually the petals withered again; the remaining buds, pecked by birds.