There they were, modestly blooming their little hearts out, so easy to miss across the sea of mud. Sandwiched between the Ides of March and St. Patrick's Day, Wednesday's crocuses seemed to deserve a holiday of their own. At least, that's how I felt when they burst across my field of vision. Don't we need once in a while a spontaneous holiday, one not declared ahead of time, one that can't be predicted at all?
2 comments:
Nice Thought, Grath. I Agree.
Thanks for dropping in and commenting, Lista.
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