Perpetua

A magic thing happened yesterday. The sun came out, fluffy little fair weather clouds floated in blue skies, and the birds were singing as if their lives depended on it. The dogs didn't have to wear their coats, my sub-zero LLBean jacket stayed on the back of the kitchen door, and all around, after the snow, there were little tiny green signs of spring. Nothing lifts one's mood like that...and light until past six o'clock. It's worth it, isn't it? To live through the cold, damp, miserable days, to know about the perpetual spring Camus talks about. I feel lucky.