After many sad, soggy days and fiercely morose skies, spring has finally arrived in the Northwest. I never had much fondness for pink (except of course when it appears on hats—hats with little ears), but even I have found a new appreciation for the delightfully hopeful tones of pink.
Pink, pink, pink, everywhere pink.
With hibernation officially over, humans are once again seen out of doors. Some of us are still groggy, some exuberant. I find myself in the exuberant category. Numerous excursions to the nursery result in heaps of dirt, buckets of flowers, shovels, trowels, bulbs and bushes—and then the mayhem of planting, pruning, and primping. Birds chirp their approval as I expose dirt-bound goodies for them. Passers-by whistle and hum, nodding their neighborly heads. Ah, the ecstasies of daphne odora, brilliant light, and warm skin.
Oh, it is spring! Truly spring! And none too soon. Pharmacies are plum out of mood elevators.
Happy, pinkly days are here again.