As the winter snow turns to rain and the ground begins to thaw, the cub claws his way through the softening soil.
He battles; the sound of his roar is drowned by the crashing thunder of the storms.
When the clouds recede, the cub turned lion shakes his dandy mane and announces the arrival of spring.
He takes his place among the pride
The calm sweet air that is left in the wake of the storm mellows our lion into a lamb.
Amid his flock, his whitish grey wool mirrors the beautiful clouds taking their place in the sky.
And as all good things must come to and end, our lamb is sheered, his wool flying to the wind to be carried to a home that his seed will find next year.
With that, spring gently slips away to be seen again next year.
(Special thanks to Google Images)