I dream of a day when the glaciers of Maryland will be no more.
I dream of a day when birds are in the air, when plants break the soil, when flowers bloom.
I dream of a day when a warm sun beats down on verdant fields of green.
I dream of a day when a kite can soar into a springtime sky — deep blue, with large, billowing clouds of cotton.
I look outside. I see ice. I see mounds of snow.
I dream of that day, and I know it is not today.