Spring Lane

The birds are back on the lane outside our house, a grassy strip between rows of townhouses. Each morning, the sound of their singing is the soundtrack of our waking.

All that is to say that when I’m on the lane with Son, the birds are singing like crazy and leaves have suddenly appeared on all the trees and flower smells are everywhere. Son zooms down the lane on the bike he calls his “motorcycle” blissfully happy in no jacket, to be out in the world.

What are you grateful for today?

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