Threshold spaces marking passage from here to there.
I can see why there are some who believe that photographs capture the soul of the living. Every time I look back at photos like this one I think, these blossoms are long dead, barely remembered except in the recesses of my imagination. On a cold, snowy February day in the Midwest, this remembered garden scene with its warmth and color are so welcome.
Never fear, my friends. As my dear, late Uncle Art used to say, in six more months, it’ll be summer!