Flowers on Sunday, My Dear

April has its reasons for flowers.  New jobs and new places.  Hours and hours more daylight.  Even a little housekeeping feels like a celebration, with the windows finally open, and the bluster of birdsong coming in with the breeze, declaring nests and territories and competitions all along Whitcomb Drive.

But most reliably, April has birthdays that come two by two by two in our family.  Pammy and me and Lily.  And Barbara and Patsy, who hold the 29th day of April for their own arrival on Planet Earth.  Separated by an ocean of time but both beautiful mirrors of love and delight in this life – and oh, equally possessed of the whimsiest sense of humor because, after all – April has finally won and there is plenty to laugh about.

All the love my heart can give, to you my dear – and many whimsy returns.

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