fifty-degree days. soft earth yielding to my shovel. red-twigged maples. little trace of snow. robins and cardinals flitting about. hats and scarves off (mostly). croci opening. clean, shorn dog. sitting outside talking on the phone. lilies and tulips pushing their way up. sideways sunlight on inside hydrangeas. nights still cold enough for fires in the wood stove. streets clear enough for jogging. early evenings sunny and warm enough to sit on woody's front porch drinking bourbon. walking through the garden and back yard with calvin. sun-kissed cheeks. dusk at seven, dawn at six. azaleas greening up but some still purple. big dipper open for business. barbecued meats in the near future. ever-slightly-fewer seizures for calvin.
|Photo by Michael Kolster|