Today the sun came out to play. So, when Gideon laid down for a nap, I bundled up and sat in a little spot up against the house, soaking in all the warmth.
I’ve never yearned for spring this much–it must be these northern winters.
The sun-filled days are few and far between, but not one of them is taken for granted.
The sun-filled days are few and far between, but not one of them is taken for granted.
I try to look for beauty in the bleak. There is a loveliness about old things passing away and the promise of new things coming.
Here’s the dirt. I tried to be poetic about the dirt but I just couldn’t think of anything pretty to say about it, so I’ll just say exactly what I feel.
It don’t hurt to get the dirt on your shirt. Dirt is good. I like dirt.
There…now that’s poetry.
…and I planted them in my pots and brought them inside.
Because I really need life all around me.
It helps me.
2 Comments