This has been my third winter in New York City and by far it has been the harshest. It has been colder and with more snow, so I have anxiously been waiting, in spite of any ground hog’s prognostication about winter’s lingering, for warmer spring like weather. The lengthening days, with the sun rising around six, and the warmer temperatures, topping out at 60 in Central Park a few days ago, have been teasing me, alerting my senses that spring cannot be far away.My spirit was lifted this past Wednesday when, even as nearby piles of snow were still melting away, for the first time this season I spotted crocus making their way through the damp, loose soil, as if these little flowering signs of spring were preparing to fend off any last onslaught of winter. They were making their proclamation in the front lawn of North Church Queens, along 154th street, north of Flushing and south of Whitestone. I could not have preached a better sermon from the church's pulpit about new life and resurrection than they.
Demeter must finally be in a better mood. I know that I am now that my very own eyes have seen these heralds of spring.
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