The Williams House; Chapter 9: The First Hints of Spring; Pgs.161-163

.     “Look!” cried Johnathon one morning as he gazed out the boys’ room window.
.     Will and Timothy started from bed, nearly jumping from their covers. “What is it, John,” said Will. He used the name John instead of Johnathon whenever he was shocked, irritated, or still bleary from sleep (and he was probably a mixture of all three at the moment).
.     “Don’t you see the water dripping from the roof,” said Johnathon. His satin pajamas were reflecting the bright beams of sunlight around the room. “And don’t you hear all the crackling and drizzling?”
.     Will and Timothy stumbled towards the window, blinking in the bright light. “Why,” said Will in wonder, “it’s melting. It’s all melting away!”
.     And so it was. Sunlight was beaming its rays of heat down on the snow in full force. There was not a cloud in the sky. Many of the icicles on the roof had broken off and shattered in a million pieces down below, and the ones still on the roof overhang were dripping water drops down through the air. The snow and ice on the ground seemed to be erupting with crackles and popping, many pools of water and slush spreading over the driveway.
.     “And listen to that,” said Will. “I haven’t heard the sound of a bird in several months.” There were only a few of them, chirping sporadically as they appeared to be relating their tales of their southern journeys. “Come along,” said Will, “let’s get dressed quickly and surprise the girls with the awakening spring.”
.     Johnathon went over to his day calendar on his nightstand and flipped the sheet, and it read the thirteenth of March. He then hurried over to his dresser and reached for his clothes.
.     Meanwhile, the girls had already wakened, and they were congregating in Lilly and Ann’s room, marveling at the shining brightness of the sun upon the land. When the boys entered their room, they found many of the girls pressing their hands against the glass to feel the warmth of the sun.
.     “It’s spring!” shouted Timothy.
.     “I know!” said Margaret. “Just listen to all the sounds!” She and Timothy started jumping around the room.
.     “It shouldn’t be long now before the frogs start croaking in the pond,” said Will, “though we still have some more cold days and nights ahead. The fingers of winter are just finally relinquishing their hold.”
.     Just then, a large icicle dropped from above the girls’ window and plummeted to the ground below, as if in response to Will’s statement. Everyone watched it stick fast into a melting snow bank. Then they looked straight out and around them. The trees still looked dead, and the land was still buried in white. Yet life was bursting within the wood and under the snow and in the air as the few birds continued to sweep through the sky. Sunlight continued to beam in vehemence, as if saying to the snow, “Go away, you cold wet sand, and don’t come back till next winter season.”
.     “Come along, everyone,” said Lilly at last. “The sooner we eat breakfast and do the morning chores, the sooner we may play outdoors before school.

Audio Continuation of Story; Pgs. 163-164