Mia is two. She holds Mom's hand and walks outside. The air feels soft on her cheeks. The sun is warm, not hot. Mia takes a big smell. “Mmm,” she says.
On the path, a little breeze goes “whoosh… whoosh.” Mia's hair tickles her face. She giggles. “Hi, wind,” she says.
They stop by a tiny tree. New leaves are small and green, like little hands. Mia touches one with one finger. It feels smooth and cool. “Baby leaves,” Mia says.
Mom smiles. “Yes. Spring makes new things grow.”
A bird sits on a branch. “Tweet-tweet!” it sings. Mia looks up. Her eyes are wide. “Bird!” she says.
Dad points to the sky. “The bird is happy. It finds food now.”
Mia listens. The sound is light and sweet. “Tweet,” she whispers back.
They walk to the garden. Flowers peek out of the soil. Yellow. Pink. White. Mia bends down. She looks close. She can see tiny dots of dust on a petal. She smells one flower. “Ahh,” she sighs. It smells like clean air and soap.
A bee flies by. “Bzz-bzz.” Mia holds still. Mom stays close. “The bee is busy,” Mom says. “It looks for flower juice.”
Mia nods. “Bee drink,” she says.
Near a puddle, Mia sees a worm on the wet ground. It wiggles. “Wiggle-wiggle!” Mia says. She watches. The puddle shines like glass. Mia taps it with her shoe. “Plip… plip.” A small splash goes “plouf.” Mia laughs, soft and quiet.
Dad kneels. “Let's keep our feet dry,” he says. He helps Mia step around the puddle. “Hop,” Mia says, and she hops.
They find a little bench. Mia sits between Mom and Dad. She eats small apple pieces. “Crunch-crunch,” goes the apple. She feels calm.
On the way home, Mia waves at the tree and the flowers. “Night, spring,” she says.
At bedtime, Mom tucks Mia in. Mia closes her eyes. “Tweet-tweet,” she whispers. “Bzz-bzz.” She smiles.
Kind hands and quiet eyes help us notice the small, happy changes of spring.
