In winter, I look out at my raised flower bed and it may have some snow. There isn't much to see and yet I know that under that bed I have planted bulbs that one day, they will appear.
Nature seems to be saying this year that spring will never come with February snow almost every day followed by cold and rain in March into April.
I wait and wait because from my former life in California. I expected Spring to start sometime in late February. Here it does not. We have something called seasons. Winter is real, long, and trying at times, especially when I gaze out of my kitchen window.
Tulips are a marvel here... a kind of resurrecfion in glorious colors. God speaks in what we see in front of us. There is winter and there is death. But after that, there is so much more. Now in Spring, I look out my window and see a blaze of tulips. It is beautiful that the dead of winter has produced the glory of this Spring.