The gentle beauty of a well-kept garden, rimmed round with rocks dug up from the yard. The stately kindness of old homes, built in the days of my great-great-grandparents. The gentle spring breeze, ripe with hints of summer, tickling my hair, heavy with lilac scent. The echo of birds chattering merrily as they bustle from treetop to treetop. The smile of a neighbor sitting on his porch as I walk past. The soothing sound of water trickling in a front yard fountain. You can keep your marble halls, your diamond palaces, your glittering gold. I have springtime in New England.
I absolutely love this, Nik! (; (my computer has been against my bloggerdash so i haven't been able to comment until now!!! :l)
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