One Spring Morn

It is dawn and I am alone.  The worries of yesterday and the cares of today seem far away, and like the winter cold, eagerly forgotten.   My senses take over.  I hear the rustle of growing things swaying in time with the gentle breeze, and I smell the sweetness of a thousand spring blossoms and blooms as they dance with the leaves.  I see a rainbow of colors and shapes and textures that make my spirit soar.  Soon the first sunbeams appear, and buds stretch open their petals to welcome the warmth of the morning light.  I realize I'm not alone after all.  Chubby breasted robins bounce from leaf to twig to blade of grass in search of breakfast.  Not only does the early bird catch the worm, but he is also a witness, with me, to the miracle of a glorious Spring morn.  

I was dreaming!  It must be so.  Twenty short hours have passed and yet another dawn of another new day and I've been tricked, for all I now see is a bleak gray sky and a blanket of freshly fallen snow smothering and silencing all that speaks of Spring.