Spring is creeping in slowly here in northern NH. My daffodils haven’t grown but a half inch in two weeks. It has been just too cool. The snow has just about all been washed away with the recent rains, and quagmires of mud remain. I keep squinting at the tree branches hoping to recognize the nub of a bud bulging out. Nope, not yet. What I have to look forward to is that explosion of green and color after the bland monotones of winter. And it wasn’t even our normal winter with banks of snow. This lack of snow was good for enabling daily life to go on normally, but not great for the sports of winter-snowshoes weren’t needed to amble over field and through the woods; ice for skating outdoors just melted; and cross country skiers slid on hard, slippery trails. But now the promise of spring is in the air. Day length is expanding. People are coming out of their winter shells. Seed packages harken from the stores’ shelves. Easter lilies intoxicate with their blooms. Geese and ducks have been spotted on the unfrozen parts of river and ponds. Even the memory of buzzing mosquitoes doesn’t stop my heart from fluttering at the thought of Spring.