These spring blooms are fleeting, and glorious to paint in their prime. Every year they return to me, like friends springing up from the ground. They keep me occupied when too much is on my mind, and the strenuous garden work is welcome relief when troubled. My duties are light as I head early to Michaela's, and I'm hoping the boys will join me in her garden with the shiny, new garden spades that I'm bringing with me. Perhaps my next painting should be of that brightly colored collection of tools in my basket. Painting number 5140 in 5140 days.
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