It is just so beautiful here this morning and the air is perfect and it is the sort of cool that washes over you like sweet water from a holy roller river and that which is not almost done blooming, is,
or is fixing to.
As we say around here.
Bird twitter, red cardinals at the feeder, tapping of woodpecker, sweet breezes, pretty hens' eggs cooked with greens and shallots from the garden, biscuits as big as a cat head, sun pouring in warm and sweet like pale yellow butter and honey gold, dripping off the biscuits. Hug dancing with my sweetheart in the kitchen while the biscuits bake.
As it should be.
March 4, 2018