Who hasn’t written a poem about spring, and yet, there is something about spring that sparks such inspiration in the mind of a writer. I can think of many things I savor when spring comes to the mountains: The first rain as it falls on crystallized snow, lifting up a scent so effervescent and pure. Waking up out of the dark winter to the warm spring light lazily drifting through the shutters like honey as the sun begins to rise. The symphony of bird song heard on every slow, mid-morning stroll coupled with the sweet smell of flower gardens and soil that is perfect for the making of a mud pie. The gulls beginning to loiter near riverbanks, hoping for a catch to leap out of the recently thawed water. Their long-forgotten calls heard overhead whilst coming in and out of the grocers. Bunches of tulips to adorn the home that never last quite as long as you would hope for, open windows to let in the breeze, storing the winter boots and leaving the wellies and umbrellas by the doo...