After a very cold night we wake to a crisp winter morning of frosted grass with the bright sun rising over the house tops. This is ‘day’s most sacred hour‘, full of the ‘innocence of a new born day‘.
Continue reading “Is This the Song of Spring?”After a very cold night we wake to a crisp winter morning of frosted grass with the bright sun rising over the house tops. This is ‘day’s most sacred hour‘, full of the ‘innocence of a new born day‘.
Continue reading “Is This the Song of Spring?”