Come Spring, come the sun, come the warmth...she slowly wakes up and like the modest woman she is, she seemingly overnight clothes herself in all of her glory. Neither wind nor Spring rain will reveal the loveliness of her curves, her bones, nor her feminine strength. Shy through the Spring, private through the Summer, She remains the one who lights up my world from my kitchen window.
I love her beauty through all of the seasons and give her thanks.
With love, Ellen.