The sky was grey, the grass was brown; the air was perfumed with wet, rotting foliage. And yet, on my walk with Istra this morning I espied a long looked-for friend--the first robin of spring.
Tim may supply some pictures--not of the robin, alas, but of us out on another walk yesterday, which was also deliciously spring-like--so deliciously spring-like that I forced my Tim-bear to abandon his cave and frolic in the glaring sun.
This time of year always makes me so strangely happy.
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