Signs of spring in the city are a little different. We get the longer light, the warmer days, but sometimes the green growing things are more difficult to spot.
So when you see a pile of blue in an overgrown tussock of leaf litter, or the new buds on trees, I think you feel the spring-yness of it more keenly. The contrast of textures and colors is so poignant.
And then there’s the element of surprise, as well, like when you find a little batch of tender violets pushing up through the cracks at the base of your building, with some old boards and rusty nails for company. Maybe that’s why we love spring so much — no matter how dark and cold the winter, how bare the branches, how stark the stone and concrete of the city — the flowers return, to delight and surprise us all over again.