One moment in early March, the ground was covered by snow. Despite lengthening days, the late-starting winter of 2015-16 struggled to hang on.

But seemingly the next moment, all the snow was gone. Where snow and ice had once hugged the earth, the landscape blushed in the growing colors of spring. Each passing day, the mild breezes of a rising spring kissed new life into the once-barren landscape.

Soon, the ground was covered in an extraordinary explosion of daffodils. Everywhere one looked, and as far as one could see, there were daffodils. One found oneself in the midst of a vast ocean of yellow that seemingly stretched on without end.



One was almost lost in this sea of yellow. As one proceeded over the distant hill, there were even more daffodils. Yellow gave way to stunning variety. Some daffodils were white. Others were yellow. Still others were of more than one color. This was diversity in all of its richness.



One could have basked forever in the sweetness of the countless daffodils. Still, the journey had to continue, and so it did.

On and on one walked through this enchanted land of dreams. In this magical place, there was only beauty, everywhere and at all times. Everything was only beautiful.

After the passage of some time, one came upon trees of all kinds that were in full bloom. Cherry, magnolias, dogwoods, and many more wore their ever chic wardrobes. Here, fashion never went out of style.



No eyes went hungry in this majestic feast of color. Neither did noses. Each tree wore a distinct perfume. Their pleasing scent was carried everywhere the wings of spring’s light breezes took it.

At this time, there was no distinction between shade trees and ornamental trees. All the trees were in blossom.

After some period of time spent among the flowering trees, one moved on. Now, one pressed ever deeper into May. The days grew warmer. The sun rose earlier and set later. The first butterflies flitted about. In the weeks ahead, one could imagine the long-awaited return of the hummingbirds.

Suddenly, one reached a deep forest of tulips. This forest was so dense, that almost no sunlight could reach the ground below. From above, one looked down upon a lush dazzling carpet of color.



If this were one’s final destination, it would have been a most beautiful ending to a most wonderful trip. But on this journey, one never quite reaches a final stop.

So, through the tulips one marched. Eventually, the tulips receded into the past. At that time, one encountered Azaleas. One was now surrounded by red, white, and pink blossoms.



But if one dared to look ahead, one saw green. One now stood at the outer edge of spring. The Azaleas marked the boundary that separated spring from summer.

That day when one’s journey takes one beyond spring and into summer will come. No passports are necessary. But that day has not yet arrived. There is still a little more spring left to cherish.

Even when one finally moves into the neighboring season and its distinctive delights, one will not soon forget one’s joyful journey through spring. That journey will serve as a vivid reminder that beauty still lives, even among events that challenge the idea that the world is a beautiful place.

Beauty remains all around us. It resides within all of us. All who embrace it make the world a little better than it would otherwise be. It is the people who choose beauty who are the ever living blossoms of spring.