Ah, grass. I was beginning to think you never existed here in Alaska. I thought it was all a dream, a hope perched high on the shelf to help me survive the arctic winter. But alas, you are real. You have been revealed beneath almost completely melted snow after seven months of harsh winter. And though your shoots only flicker a hint of green from years past, soon you will be green and full of wonderful grassy smells. Even now, I can smell the soil that holds your roots in the warm sun. Yes, my friend, once the sogginess subsides, I will be able to lie on you, and picnic, and squeeze you between my toes. Your fortitude and will to survive inspire the poet within me. Thank you, dear friend, for returning.