Snowdrops

I walked, mud-smurched boots squelching gently, into the woods by the river, whose banks had abandoned all hope and receded beneath the speedy brown flow.

Broken stems of frozen autumn, hairy decorations above a green base, speckled with the delight of snowdrops.

Cold wind. A threat of rain. But strips of blue sufficient to send hope and spring into the veins of the small birds.