I left the house early this morning. Walked to College Drive with my husband and then headed to the hospital as he headed downtown to work. It was my twice-yearly gastroenterology checkup. “Unremarkable” was what the nurse put in my chart. A sad-sounding word for my happily symptom-free body.

It is finally spring in Saskatoon. In spring the ground is sepia like an old tintype and the sky ranges between greys and brilliant blues. Yesterday in the +18ºC sun young women were wearing sandals and short skirts and skittering around the melting snowbanks. Today the sky is a dreary grey. The wind kicks up the sand and salt that was layered on the roads between snowfalls. It bites at the eyes and nose.

We are waiting for a cleansing rain. We are hoping for no more snow. We are padding carefully around our backyards in rubber boots amidst the muck and dead leaves searching for signs of green.

Yesterday I saw a butterfly out the back window. I walked through the hallway before I registered what I had actually seen. I went back to the window and held my breath as I watched for signs of movement. Yes. A mourning cloak butterfly. Its browns and yellows blending with the dead grass and leaves. Its umber blending with the dried elderberries. Its spots of blue blending with the sky.

There were hints of green spreading under the edges of snowbanks today. Hints of green.