Spring

"It tis such a lovely day," said the Sock to no one in particular. It was merely enjoying the beauty of the sunshine reflecting off its glorious colours.

"I do say," said the Sock, "the sky certainly is enjoying my blue. "

"Well, enough of this lounging about... I'm off to see if Spring has sprung." And so the Sock left its comfy place in the sun, and went off in search of Spring.

"Excuse me, my fine fellows, but have you perchance seen Spring?" asked the Sock. There came no reply. "How rude" thought the Sock, and so it continued.

























How will I ever find Spring?" said the Sock, to no one in particular as it continued its sun-filled journey.

It found a Tree, full of buds. The tiny Lilac blooms would not appear for some time, and yet they were there, the waiting of promise of beauty and fragrance yet to come. From this vantage point, the Sock asked again, in the loudest voice its wool would allow - "Has anyone seen Spring?"






















And then, a little voice startled him. "Ahem... I've seen Spring."
































It was a Crocus, opening its petals to the warmth of the Sunshine. It said again, "I've seen Spring."























"You have?!!" replied the Sock, hurrying down from its perch. "Oh you must tell me where you've seen Spring!"




Shyly, the little Crocus replied, "Oh my, Spring is beautiful. Spring is about changes. Spring is about warm colours emerging from the coolness of winter."



"It sounds lovely," said the Sock.



"Yes. You are," said the Crocus.