At that winter smiles in the North and melts into mist and returns a few weeks later with soft snow flakes from the sky, on an April afternoon the same day the sun wore her yellow raiment and the grass put on her green dress in preparation for spring. The trees know better and wisely kept their leaves tucked up in their buds and sleep still, warmed by the hardened shell of their skin. We learn it is better to wait, to plant our seeds –instead of letting their promises freeze like our uncovered fingers and toes during the false fade of winter. So the sandals are put away, and the scarves, gloves, and fleeces come out of storage. It feels cold now, but you smile because you remember that you are still warmer than the days that turned your fingers blue with ache and turned your breath into mist. They say there is a season for all things, and now growing things lie still, except for you. So, you wait and grow more patient.