Although we didn’t have as bad a winter as they’d called for, I’ll sure be glad if spring ever stakes its claim.
Right now we seem stuck between the two seasons: wearing shorts one day, long underwear the next.
And, the recurrent theme right now?
The color of the days falls somewhere in the midst of charcoal smeared with a smidgen of white.
Yuck. That gets old.
Something really cool happened a few days ago. We found a place that is the perfect cross between where black and white feel quite at home.
About forty miles from here is a seed farm that is bathed in old fashioned. As soon as our truck door opened, we stepped back into the 1800’s.
The “town” consists of a blacksmith shop, apothecary, seed store, barn, and a restaurant.
While bits of color were sprinkled here and there, I was reminded that there is an absolute beauty in weathered gray.