A part of the yard peeps from under the last blanket of snow.  It won’t last.  Forecasters predict twelve to eighteen inches of white stuff will cover us by Friday.  At least we got a peek of green.  It may be weeks before we see it again. 

     I think, rather than dwell on the coming blizzard, I’ll dream of green grass and the garden in full bloom.  I’ll think of the magnolia clad in pink blossoms.  Maybe I’ll sip a cool drink under the tree.  I’ll dream of spring flowers swaying in warm, gentle breezes, of lounging on the hammock while working on my books. 

     I’ll dream of fishing and walking in the parks, of playing with the dogs, rolling in the grass, and warmth.  I won’t think of 60 mph wind driven snow.  No, I won’t think of that.  I’ll imagine sitting on the bench rock dangling my feet in the pond, and tickling the Koi as they feed from my hands.  I’ll dream of bullfrog songs, warm sunny skies, outdoors, BBQs, sultry nights, and green things.