when the spring gives me even a false promise that it's coming soon, i take it for its word. and i never begrudge it all those times its lied.
sunday was the kind of nice you can't expect for february but accept with thanks anyways. we bundled up, shoved some kleenex up our noses and headed back behind our house to the ravine floor below. to get there you have to go through a hole in a fence but we're nature lovers, we live on the edge.
we hear these trains ten times a day. or rather we don't hear them at all anymore as they're now part of the background noise you accustom yourself to when you become acquainted with your space and the sounds of it.
we hear these trains ten times a day. or rather we don't hear them at all anymore as they're now part of the background noise you accustom yourself to when you become acquainted with your space and the sounds of it.
i climbed a tree here and waited as jeremy went on ahead, as boys do, to explore what lay beyond the ridge. i can't wait for summer in this place it's going to be magical. perfect for all my magic.
the muted sun of spring! i see you! stop being so modest and blare your blazes down here already! i'm somewhat allergic to you but you turn jeremy the nicest shade of brown.
these milkweed pods were impossibly beautiful and impossibly difficult to photograph. they looked like little paper lanterns though, decorations for an outdoor party.
i sure hope we're invited.