Living Anyway

Tomorrow, spring’s petals will parade down pavement, confetti without the fanfare of a marching band. You wouldn’t call the bulbs and blooms any braver for withstanding winter’s percussive chill. All they know to do is grow in time with songbirds and rounding sun. You wouldn’t cry out, vanity!— for exuberant displays of lusty color, pastels… Continue reading Living Anyway