Is there any first sign of springtime so welcome as the pussy willows? Probably not—-unless it’s when they leave off their soft kitten grays and make happy polka dots of chartreuse all over the lowlands, ditches and swamps:
Pussy willows are only the beginning; color and life is exploding everywhere we look these days. Spring is winning thousands of small and miraculous victories over winter, and the ice and snow is forgotten as all the glorious flowers and leaves burst forth. Life conquers over death, again.
“Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” (1 Corinthians 15:54-55)
Rejoicing Hills 
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