It is in the sounds of the seagulls as they travel the few blocks inland towards my home. They never come all winter, but I know that spring is almost here when they wake me early in the morning.
I can hear it in the moss, as it shakes off the dew.
I can hear it in the song of the birds, as they rise with the dawn. I can hear it in the slowly greening buds, as they open towards the day.
I hear the sounds of spring in the voices that carry, as more people walk the streets in daylight.
And in the cold, dark, wet, soil that cracks with the green sprouts.
Listen, and you will hear soon the song of spring. Yours may be muffled by a deep covering of snow, but soon you will hear the melting drips, from a warmer sun.
Listen for the sounds of spring, it is coming.