
Nothing says Spring to me more than blossoming trees. Living in the Pacific Northwest, the grey skies can get mighty glum after a few months (or, as in my case, a few minutes). So when the trees begin to bathe the air with their soft scent and dappled pink light flickers overhead it's like a rebirth from the inside out. And a gorgeous reminder that, no matter how grey things may get, Spring will always have its day.
— Bradford of The Bedlam of Beefy
(photograph by Bradford)











4 comments:
Yesterday the twig was brown and bare;
To-day the glint of green is there;
Tomorrow will be leaflets spare;
I know no thing so wondrous fair,
No miracle so strangely rare.
I wonder what will next be there!
~L.H. Bailey
I love this poem....
Beautiful. And I love that Uncle Beefy so:) xx
yay, U.B. - lovely! :)
Thanks so much again for your gorgeous contribution, Uncle Beefy!!!
xoxo
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