Daily story, November 1, 2024

I am waiting for the crocuses. When winter ends, they will poke up through the thawing earth to greet the sun, and me. I can make it through the winter as long as I remember that I am waiting for the crocuses.

But while I am waiting, I don’t go out to look. If I went out and looked at the dead earth every morning, then before the shoots pushed through it I would be dead too. I do not look, and so I might miss the first day that the crocuses show their faces to the world again. But I know it is coming. I know it is. There will be colour out there again. And I am waiting.