the promise of spring
I woke up this morning to the smell of hyacinths and rain.
I opened my eyes this morning to see daffodils almost ready to burst forth.
And I thought: what beauty, such an almost scandalous level of beauty, to be in the midst of as I start my day.
How can a day go wrong when it starts with unblemished sweetness?
When it starts with the promise of spring?
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