Something happened last night. Been in a rough mood all week, but I woke up this morning with happier feet and a lighter heart. I jumped up and felt the need to sing with the Bluebirds this morning. Sunrise was brighter, the flowers more colorful, strawberries were sweeter. I had to fight off the urge to join the butterflies dancing across the lawn. It must be June;




There’s just something about June, as Longfellow called it, the fairest daughter of the year. Not quite ready to say goodbye to spring, not quite ready to say hello to summer. June, the elder sister of spring, the youngest sister of summer, and the mother of sweetest memories.





You must excuse me for cutting this short; I can no longer resist the urge to join the the waltz of the butterflies. And just to leave you laughing on Friday;









