“Look, pussy willows.” I point out to my small person.
“What if they’re fairy eggs, and they’re going to hatch and make everything turn green soon?”
“Good one.” This is our game. Who can come up with the wildest ‘what if?’. The winner is our imagination. I consider my answer, sipping from my coffee. “What if the tree is a fairy nursery and the pussy willows are fairy babies swaddled up to stay warm? Shh. We don’t want to wake them up.”
“Wake up fairies!” My small person hollers. “It’s time to make everything grow again!”
There’s a rustle. A robin chirps. A crocus pokes through the leaf litter. Yellow coltsfoot blossoms dot the ditches. A rotten snowbank collapses and trickles into the water. My small person’s eyes grow wide.