Blissful Mornings - The Promise in the Pause

The snow had not yet melted, but the air carried a different whisper now.

Amaya stood at the edge of the orchard, her boots pressing into the frost-covered earth. Above her, the branches of the old cherry trees stretched skyward, their buds still closed, as if listening for some unspoken call.

It was the time between—not quite winter, not yet spring.

The world, it seemed, was holding its breath.

Amaya inhaled deeply, feeling the crisp air fill her lungs. The sun had begun to rise earlier, its golden light lingering just a little longer each day, casting soft shadows on the snowbanks. Beneath the frozen ground, she knew, life was stirring—roots awakening, seeds beginning their quiet stretch toward the surface.

But still, the trees waited.

The wind carried a gentle hush, the voice of the season speaking in rhythms she had come to understand. Not yet, but soon.

For years, Amaya had mistaken this time for delay—a stubborn holding-back of spring’s beauty. But now, she recognized its wisdom.

There was something sacred in this waiting.

The ebb before the bloom.

The quiet before the symphony.

If spring were to rush forward, the blossoms would be too fragile, too unready for the fullness of the new season. The pause was not an absence of movement—it was preparation, a gentle unfolding in its own time.

She smiled, reaching out to touch a low branch, feeling the rough bark beneath her fingertips.

“You will bloom when it is time,” she whispered, as much to herself as to the tree.

And just as she turned to leave, a single petal—small, pink, and perfect—fluttered down from the highest branch. A quiet promise.

Spring was coming.

And when it arrived, it would be ready.

-Bliss Chains Authors