Brave snowdrops

Aren’t the first flowers of spring so brave?

To poke their heads out of their winter sleep and to wonder, 

“Is it time yet?”

I see them, the contrast of their brightness so strong against the drab winter murk, 

Nature’s floor a muddy canvas on which these brave ones fling themselves.

The serene white of the snowdrop, the dazzling yellow and purple of the crocus.

It’s as if they’re saying to us,

Have faith, brighter times are coming.

The sun will re-emerge from behind the sheet of fog and rise higher in the sky.

Their curious and eager splashes are here to give us hope.

While I appreciate their being a beacon, a signal of change, 

I also see their vulnerability.

It’s so cold out, it’s not really spring yet, and they seem so fragile against the harsh elements.

As I share their excitement at this phase of rebirth, I also feel the tenderness of their courage.

Flashing their brightness on that muddy canvas.

Fragile, small, and precious.

I guess this is what I see when I spy early spring flowers: 

hope and bravery, fragility and vulnerability.

Can you believe - 

some people just see flowers?

Or even more unbelievable, some people don’t even see them.