February 12, 2012 @ 8:36 pm | Filed under: Assorted and Sundry
Do I thrill at the sight of green spikes poking up from the soil because I read The Secret Garden so many times, growing up? Or did I read it so many times because it put into words the thrill I felt in my mother’s garden?
I SEEM TO BE DOING A LOT OF SHOUTING IN THIS POST
“…this perfect day”
Blue horse, red heart, green flower