Springtime in my city. A moment to pause, to be home. A breath of fresh air.
Southern Spring feels like summer. I wish I could record and share smell. The flowers here are wonderful.
Bright and colorful doors of Newport. The details, of course, are everything.
Daffodils from the grocery store find their way home to my desk, sparking a spring state of mind.
A mid-week escape to Marshfield for dinner at Polcari’s Bridgwaye Inn. The air is cold, but the sun is out. Spring is on its way.
Winter blurs into Spring, the grey blurs into green. Walking home, I can’t feel my toes, but the sky is blue.
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