a beautiful mess

Spring crossed the threshold today with wind in her untamed hair and mud on her tattered skirt, and I’ve never been so glad to see her.  Like a wayfaring friend who’d been gone too long, I welcomed her in and we seemed to pick up right where we left off last year.  I’d been itching…

what greens may come

Well, we made it.  Through squall and storm and biting wind.  Even though the lion of March can still rear its feral head, I always feel a great sigh of relief once February is on the books.  I’ve been feeling the shift underfoot and in the air over the past couple of weeks- the kind…