I seem to have moved right through Autumn and Winter and slipped quietly into spring, as testified by the soft colors and balmy breezes in play here. I wonder if a season is more beautiful in the imagination than the real thing . . . a sort of grass is greener theory?
*Sigh*
Now, the big question: is my mind gone to spring coming, or spring past? From a quick glance at the basket of hand-dyed and painted linens, I would say that I am prepared for an eternal spring. Perhaps it is the beauty of bright, cheerful spring colors that is cheering on rainy days?
I will have a cup of tea and think through this . . .
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