Spring is my favorite season. I love watching things come to life again.
All winter, I yearn for color. When the trees start flowering, I want to look and look. The pinks, lavenders, whites, and salmons of those flowering trees seem like silent fireworks to me, bursting everywhere.
They’re not out yet, but they’re coming. I see the buds.
It’s officially spring, but — in New England — that’s only a promise of things to come. It’s still cold. The snow is on the ground.
But, I saw another sign of Spring last week:
If the corn dog cart has arrived at Fenway Park, can the flowering trees be far behind?