Last night I dreamed of springtime.
In my dream, I cleared a trail to the mountains with a handheld show shovel. When I reached the summit, I built a fire and sang for the changing seasons. The warmth from the fire melted the snow and caused spring to appear.
In response to my dream, I hiked to the Little Spokane River for the first time in months, searching for signs of spring. The sound of songbirds gave the first evidence, followed by patches of clear ground under the melting snow, or a dry leaf holding to a branch as new leafbuds push forward.