It’s another seasonal show-stopper in Montreal. The sky is a happy shade of blue, the air is as sweet as my husband’s kiss and there is dancing in the streets. When you live in a place with extreme weather and four such radical peaks, there is an explosion of joy that is hard to beat, when the brutality of winter thaws into the glory of spring and the buds burst out of their pods. After months of snow and ice crushing their earthly resting place, I have no clue how these little dudes do it, but that, my people, is the poetry of life.
With life, comes a responsibility to live. So, let’s get cracking!
FAN THE FLAMES
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3 Responses to That time of year
“the air is as sweet as my husband’s lips”…you ladies crack me up!
Glad to be of service. Now, let me ask: is your kiss as sweet as the Spring air? 😉