sunday supper under the blossoms.

this morning thus far has been a slow drip of a day. my favorite sort of morning.

the creaky place in the floorboards, the whirl of grinding coffee beans, a bright copper kettle on the back burner, just about to boil and sing out to me -- this is the music of the morning.

this is the fifth grey day this week -- cloudy days strung together like pearls -- and you'd never know it now, but for two sweet weeks we felt spring on our skin. it's been an odd season, one speckled with sweaters and winter coats, late snows and head colds. but the two fleeting weeks when the branches swayed heavy with puffed pink -- well, the sun shone down and layers were shed and we were gifted a single sunday supper under the blossoms, a place i was happy to be on a good day.