When you spend most of the winter looking down, trudging along, watching for snow mounds and corner moats in the greige light, it’s shocking to look up and discover there is sky. Blue sky. And even more monstrous arms wave above you than you remember from the Fall.

So you stare for a while. Snap a photo, even though the camera doesn’t see what you see. And when you move, you keep looking skywards, fascinated. Hopeful.

At the corner there’s another ice slush most. This time you splash through giddily, eager for the next tiny glimpse of change in the sky above.