Although I was traveling last week, I couldn't forget the Vernal Equinox:  the first day of spring.  For those of us who live in the colder climes of the planet, the Equinox is a day for which we wait, some of us patiently, others not, enduring or, for some, enjoying, a few or many months of snow, cold, and generally harsher meteorological conditions until, one day, it's over.  And we rejoice.

      

      In chapter thirteen of the third book of his Anna Karenin, Leo Tolstoy writes, 

    "Invisible larks broke into song above the velvety green fields and the ice-    covered stubble-land; peewits began to cry over the low lands and marshes, still bubbly with water not yet swept away; cranes and wild geese flew high across the sky, uttering their spring calls. The cattle, bald in patches where they had shed their winter coats, began to low in the pastures; lambs with crooked legs frisked round their bleating mothers who were losing their fleece; swift-footed children ran about the paths drying with imprints of bare feet; there was a merry chatter of peasant women over their linen at the pond and the ring of axes in the yard, where the peasants were repairing their ploughs and harrows.
    "Spring had really come."

    Indeed.  Enjoy the resurrectional character of existence!