A day after I plant eight flats of seeds, we wake to two feet of snow. (My husband says “a foot and a half”–he plowed it so he would know). Sometimes its so hard to see past the snow to the spring waiting just under our feet–especially this winter. But when we need to eat, we have no choice but to see past it. The onions stored in our cellar waiting to play their part in delicious soups were these same seeds last spring. We must eat–and so we must dream of a real spring that will give us what we need. Someday. Soon.