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Once the sun becomes warm enough, walk along the stone path, through the gate, under the trellis.
Sit on the marble bench.
Feel the cool grass under your feet, the warm rays on your back.
Do this every morning till sudden variegated glints of red or purple or pink or orange catch your eye.
They’ll be the first blooms of the season.
Clip one, bring it back, place it in a small white vase on the table.
I will find it there, unyielding in its simple devotion to its own pure form, color, and smell.
I’ll know spring has come.