The frost of 2026 is slowly surrendering its throne.
The days begin to stretch their golden limbs,
while the nights quietly fold themselves shorter and softer.
What once stood bare and brittle
now gathers courage beneath the earth—
roots whispering, sap rising,
life rehearsing its return.
Perhaps in a few days, perhaps in a month,
Vancouver will breathe again in colors—
petals unfolding like gentle confessions,
blossoms spilling across streets and skies,
as if the city has remembered how to smile.
It is the early morning of February 27.
I step outside my room,
and there—right beside me—
the trees have already dared to bloom.
The very first flowers of this year.
A quiet joy flickers within,
then beams outward—
a warmth brighter than the fading winter air.
May these white blossoms be auspicious,
carrying luck in their fragile petals.
May they whisper fortune into every passing heart.
May they delight every eye that sees them,
and bless every soul that comes near.
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