Spring’s First Whisper

A dauntless azure sky finally broke through the wretched grey winter.

Today, the first dawn of a splendid spring showers its rays across the earth. 

However, winter remains defiant. Though its time has passed, it refuses to relinquish its grasp. It presses forward, howling and shrieking, provoking all into submission. A cold breeze lingers in the air; a harsh reminder of the biting frost from before. 

No one can coerce it to leave. 

Spring rests at ease, for it remains as a whisper amidst the strident torrent of winter.

Yet, spring keeps it vigil. It will not be overthrown. It has to uphold its great promise: the wheat fields and sunflowers will blossom once again. 

They all ask, “When will it come?” 

It does not answer them back. Only a coy smile is returned: the bright rays of sunlight burnish all the lands in colour. It burns brightly, restoring life even into the dull brick and concrete urbanscape. 

Spring will not submit to winter’s oppression. 

The calm and joy will return.

Though the season may be tainted, spring quietly bides its time. A muster of storks greet the new day, gracing the skies with their flight. Perhaps they know that the truth is on the horizon: that a thousand whispers can defy even the darkest of winters.  

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Mărţişor (Little March) has arrived. It is a Romanian tradition to celebrate the arrival of Spring on the 1st March. This story was inspired by the change in seasons, but also (unbeknownst to me at the time) it was inspired by the current conflict between Ukraine and Russia. After I read it, I realised that I indirectly channelled the symbolism of these two opposing sides as the seasons. While it may be sombre reading for some, I hope that people will find comfort in the message nonetheless.  

Day 1 - This piece was posted as part of the 31 Days of Content Challenge that I undertook in March 2022.