Strong winds have buffeted the house all evening. My brother the West Wind blows strong from the Atlantic, bringing news of Spring’s imminent return. Snow drops, their delicate heads cascading over the pebble steps to the Good Neighbor’s house, and daffodil shoots, the circle the front garden, confirm this most hopeful of news.
Spring.
Just in time for Imbolg.
Funny how that works
Confessions of a Hedge Witch 
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