At last, a glimmer of hope that the “best of the worst” of winter is over. I have just arrived back in my apartment, still dewy from my walk in Prospect Park, with the following pieces of evidence that Spring is about to, well, turn into a verb.
- The ice in the duck pond had retreated in places to the thickness of an exhaled misty breath, just visible upon the water
- The horses were back in action on their dedicated trail, ridden by young white smiling ladies
- The children’s playground was full of children
- Green grass was visible as far as my eyes could see, emerging from beneath the half-inch white coat it had been wearing only two days ago
- Gloves, for the first time in months, were optional.
