Seems like, with a blink of an eye, the land began to breathe again.
It's as if, the night before, God's hands descended from the heavens clasping hundreds of paintbrushes -each dusted with the brightest greens, sharpest reds, clean yellows, lilac; shades of spring that lend brilliance and lustre to lifeless beds of sediment that once lay, buried and breathless, under crusts of impenetrable frost.

Lush, slender curls of fledgling leaves emerging from wooden troves - a first sign of spring.
Might I say 'finally'?