Little things are changing. Water running through the gutters, falling so fast to the ground. The sun hanging on a little longer each evening. Cooking with the window open a tad, warm scents floating in. To say that I love this time is an understatement. I always thought my favorite season was autumn. But it must be spring.
This line from a poem I read years ago keeps repeating in my mind-it is this, being so tangled in you.
I randomly decided to take Monday off of work. I think I will walk in to town for coffee/reading in the morning, then Great Expectations in the afternoon.
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