Winter Washes Away
“I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day, a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.” – J. B. Priestley
A seventy degree weekend, running in shorts, a fresh breeze, a bath to wash away the sand. Spring may come late, but it always arrives, in its own time. Each season, each day brings its own gifts. We only need to recognize them.