The light is not yet spring yet not merely winter. A golden brightness casts the mountains in shades of promise, slashed with sheets of snow.
Northern New Mexico hangs onto winter forever, like a child who won't let go of an outgrown toy. Snow flurries cancel May picnics and high school graduations are suffered in freezing winds. Children change from tank tops to snow pants to shorts to jackets. Fruit trees bloom and are killed by frost. Winds blow the new growth down, as if challenging only the strong to remain.
But this mid-February day, I can feel spring coming, though I know it lies yet months away in its arrival.