
It seems as though every little tucked-away corner holds some brightly-coloured treasure--such colours I have never seen on daffodils or tulips. Even the dandelions and violets seem quaint. I love the knotgrass and the fiddleheads--there is something so wild and yet so quiet about them.
Tonight begins the SLC poetry festival, which should be amazing this year, as always. The Mister is coming into town for it, and so are our good friends J and Erin, who will be visiting tomorrow night. It promises to be a lovely weekend. Cheers to all.
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