Snow falls heavy all around. The baseboard heaters rattle to life, and the thermostat needle reminds us continually just how insufficient they really are for these vaulted ceilings. My mitten-shunning children are beginning to get cabin fever, and I am, too.
My husband comes home with a bundle of firewood, an armful of tulips. I put the flowers in water. He lights the fire.
The snow still falls, but he has brought me spring.