The rain is washing away piles of snow. The air is damp and the drip, drip, drip is our rhythm. Wandering through the archives I stumbled upon these wet, purple, beautiful flowers. They struck me because it’s hard to believe that from this crusty frozen and now muddy earth, we will soon see these . . .
{From my parents garden}
One of my favorite people to follow on Twitter is @maineroots. I had asked him what his favorite spring poem was to go along with this post and he recommended An April Day by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Thank you, @maineroots as this is a perfect compliment for today and lovely to think that April is on it’s way.
xoxo . . .
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