We eat the year away. We eat the spring and the summer and the fall. We wait for something to grow and then we eat it.
We eat the year away. We eat the spring and the summer and the fall. We wait for something to grow and then we eat it.
It was one of those winter days that suddenly dream of spring, when the sky is blue and soft and clear, and the wind has dropped its voice and whispers instead of screaming, and the sun is out and the trees look surprised, and over everything there is the faintest, palest tint of green.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories